


Beautiful Stranger

by Sonny



Series: A Different Corner [3]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-10
Updated: 2003-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if? Michael had never been a part of Brian's life, but bumped into him one night at Babylon? What would happen to make them discover one another? Is This the reality... or are we in Brian's worst nightmare?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is BOOK 3 in a trilogy of fics exploring WHAT IF Brian/Michael had met in different ways - turned "different corners", would they have met?

~*~  
 ****

 **"Real love stories never have an ending"**

 ****  
__

_-By Anonymous_

 __  
~*~  
 ****

 **"Take me back in time  
Maybe I can forget  
Turned a different corner  
And we never would have met  
Would you care?"**

 ****  
__

_-By George Michael from "A Different Corner"_

 __  
~*~  
 ****

 ** Beautiful Stranger **

****  
__

_written by Madonna and William Orbit_

 __  
\----------  
 ****

 **Haven't we met  
You're some kind of beautiful stranger  
You could be good for me  
I've had the taste for danger**

 ****

 **If I'm smart then I'll run away  
But I'm not so I guess I'll stay  
Heaven forbid  
I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger**

 **I looked into your eyes  
And my world came tumbling down  
You're the devil in disguise  
That's why I'm singing this song**

Bridge:  
 **  
To know you is to love you  
You're everywhere I go  
And everybody knows**

 **To love you is to be part of you  
I've paid for you with tears  
And swallowed all my pride**

....  
~*~

  
The music is pumping through the expensive sound system at the most popular gay club found on Liberty Avenue. Every single body, either on the dance floor or near the bar, seems to move rhythmically in the same hybrid motions. Eyes wander into dark, hazy areas displaying other hidden pleasures that are going on while the DJ spins his continual records in the background. A faint thump-thumping is reverberating, seeping through the thin walls.

Babylon is in full swing tonight, like she is every night.

~*~ **  
**Ask any man here, gay or curious, and you’ll probably get the same response. What’s IT all about? Well, at the BARE-minimum ... IT is all about ... S-E-X.**

 **Getting some, having some, losing some ... and eventually moving on, surviving some.****  
~*~

The seas of male bodies and prime, ripe flesh flow naturally as they eventually part like Moses did to the Red Sea.

~*~  
 ****NOW ... ask what IT’s all worth ... and you’ll get completely different answers. The truth can get jaded and tricky.**

 **Speaking for myself ... IT’s everything. SEX, that is. Everything because I live and breathe, from day to day, wondering where my next meal will come from. I worry when the rent comes due. And I run away when the bills need to be paid.**

 **SEX has taken on an entirely different meaning for me. I am totally dependent on the complete pleasure and glory that other men find in my body.**

 **SEX is my career ... my body is my resume ... my dick is my only co-worker ... for I ... am a hustler ...****  
~*~

Jutting hips move, back-n-forth to the heady beat of the record. Glazed hazel eyes are closed as the long, tapered torso sways lost in his element. Typically dress in the usual uniform of tight black jeans and his favorite button-down, sleeveless white shirt, the man has gone on a journey inside his mind. The collar is open, exposing the naked, glistening skin of his pale neck. His dark mahogany locks are wispy about his head, caressing the shape, and matted to the moist surface.

~*~  
 ****Name’s Brian ... Brian Kinney.**

 **Born and raised under the heavy thumb of an alcoholic, mean-spirited, tyrannical father and an even sadder, pathetically, weak-minded mother who bent and shaped me.**

 **To be the best homosexual I could be.**

 **I get better at it every year.****  
~*~

Gone, somewhere safe, inside of the music, Brian has chosen to fly solo tonight ... or at least until the night is over. A decision was made before he even arrived because this evening he has a purpose. Nothing and nobody will dislodge him from a full on frontal attack. His prey has been spotted. This has been a long awaited catch. Spread over three random nights working with the same attention getting maneuvers.

Slowly, those predatory eyes creak open to lock directly at one of the upper platforms in front of the large split screens hung off the high ceiling rafters. His sole attention is being paid to one of the two men hanging over the metal piping railing. Brian is oblivious to the interested men, on the dance floor, already gathering around his beautiful, enthralling body.

The two men are caught in their own dialogue. They appear utterly comfortable with one another. More like best friends, then the other couples who weren’t afraid to publicly announce their obvious intentions. The raven-haired Cutie held his body casually over the hunched shoulder of his companion, a suave, GQ Blond Adonis. Both were not intentionally aware of Brian’s stare as they gazed about the crowds of men below them. The Cutie leaned in closer to the Adonis’ left ear. They both laughed over what was being said between them.

Behind them, Babylon’s moving cameras catch sight of Brian’s unfettered reaction ... in colorful, wide screen views. He doesn’t seem phased but what he’s just witnessed ... just more determined.

~*~  
 ****So ... there it goes. The sad shape of my life. Infinitely tragic and pathetically poetic in every way tangible.**

 **Tonight won’t be any different. I am the Hunter, in this scenario ... but I can fake and pretend a really good prey.**

 **Continually satisfying appetites with easy men willing to succumb to the inevitable.**

 **They only want only one thing ... and I can give it to them ... for the right price.**

 **I don’t envy them. Most of the Johns I fuck, suck or whatever ... I think are one step away from stupidity. Fools. Wanting me ... desiring me as badly as they always do ... me, the only one knowing they could never touch me. Really “touch” the deepest part of me.**

 **Except HIM ...**

 **Seemingly approachable, but up close ... as untouchable as I leak out of my own persona.****  
~*~

Brian slows his body movements down, beginning to make his way over to a bar, somewhere off the dance floor. He digs into the waistband of his jeans, for the five dollar bill his hidden for emergency purposes. He can’t recall if this is all he has until the next John or if he has some more stashed in the apartment. Slapping the bill on counter, he is about to hold up two fingers to tell the bartender about his normal two drink consumption when the bottles are placed before him.

“What the fuck is this? My money no good any more?”

The bartender laughed while throwing a thumb over his naked shoulder. “Nah. Guy ... at the corner end of the bar, down there ... said to put whatever you were having on his tab. All I had to do was wait for you to come over.”

Brian scrunched his face up in disgust. “Great! Another fuckin’ admirer! I thought I asked you to weed out the fans?”

The bartender shrugged as he went back to work. “Seemed harmless to me.”

“Ah-Ha! So, he’s old ... homely ... and he probably still lives at home with his Mommy! Thanks for the heads-up!” Brian turns away to face the floor, while leaning his arms along the bar. He milks the first bottle, in his grip, as he scans the crowds. The bartender shook his head, smiling, at the casual disinterest from Brian. Brian didn’t like being the hunted ... caught and trapped. Everyone knew that it was the other way around.

Brian is only glancing at random about the room, so he won’t be drawn to look up again. Another glance ... HIS way ... might break his confidence, or his heart. Brian can’t tell which would hurt the most.

~*~  
 ****Any other time, I would be all over the Adonis. This time, I was inexplicably drawn to the Brunette Cutie. I knew he wasn’t a regular to Babylon, but the face had grown familiar to me.**

 **Not only was he plaguing my reality, but I found myself dreaming about him. Men never entered my bedroom, much less my unconscious mind.**

 **I had clear visions of meeting him in junior high, running into him on the stairs, nearly knocking us both on our asses. That blended into nearly two decades of friendship. A close friendship like I had never known. Filled with laughter, smiles, hugs and tender kisses. Strange, only because I had never even seen this man in my life before three nights ago.**

 **How could I have a complete history with a stranger? Past life? Fate playing a dirty trick on me?**

 **I was growing envious of the Adonis. I couldn’t tell if the pull was because of the Brunette Cutie’s looks, his gentle actions or just the simplicity of his sparkling smile. He used his entire body when expressing the emotion of the moment.**

 **I knew how to use my body to convey what I was feeling on an entirely different level. No matter the circumstances, I had felt an immediate connection to him.**

 **And I couldn’t let go.****  
~*~

The two men hanging on the rail are falling much deeper into their conversation, ignoring the fact of being inside a loud, music-filled dance club.

Brian is playing voyeur, again.

~*~  
 ****If I don’t get anything, for all my efforts ... covert and grand ... I just need to find out his name.**

 **Only to assuage my mind of the need to put a name to the face in my dreams.**

 **Or maybe to jot the name down in the journals of my history as ... The One Who Got Away****  
~*~

Brian hasn’t bothered to look around him to the small crowds of men vying for his attention as he pushes his way through the fields of plain faces and uninterested barely clad bodies.

********************************************

The Blond Adonis had turned back from leaning on the railing. He had been keeping a close eye on the screen behind them. He nudged his friend with his elbow. “Hey! Look smart! He’s on his way up!”

“Don’t play with me!” The Brunette Cutie acted shocked as he looked down at the dance floor. “Oh! Shit!” He couldn’t spot that man who’d been cruising him. “What the fuck do I do, Auggie?!” He was frantic with composing himself.

“First, you chill, Mike. After all this is just a man, like any other Average Joe on the street. Second ...” Auggie went about fixing Mike’s appearance. “There ... I guess that’s the best we can do ...” He knew Mike would try to hit him on the biceps. “Ouch!”

“Thanks, man. Love ya’, too.” As the words leave his mouth, Mike is aware that the handsome stranger has approached, but he’s beginning to act uninterested while sipping on his beer.

“God Christ, Mike! You didn’t say he would take my breath away.” Auggie spoke through his clenched teeth. Since Mike wouldn’t make a move, Auggie shuffled around to get a closer look. He smiled broadly at Brian who stopped short when he quickly noticed Mike’s aloofness and cool attitude. “Hello ... gorgeous!”

Mike was ashamed by his friend’s blatant disregard for politeness. “Auggie, please!” He still couldn’t look at the man coming toward them.

Auggie looked Brian up and down, liking very much what he was seeing for his own eyes. “You might like playing dead, but I’d much rather sample the goods.” He leaned back on the railing, crossing his arms over his built chest.

“Excuse me?!” Brian was just unsure of what was exactly said. He was more intent on the Brunette Cutie who was ignoring him.

Mike cleared his throat as he shook his head in shame. “Jesus Christ! Could you have said that a little louder?” He tried to turn Auggie back to face the other way. “I’m sorry for my friend’s rudeness.”

“If that was being rude, then I need to get into another line of business.” Brian tucked one thumb in his back pocket, holding out his hand for either man to take. “Name’s Brian. Brian Kinney.”

Auggie freed himself from Mike’s clutches and swiveled to face Brian again. “Mike’s a bit too proper for clubbing.” He took Brian’s strong hand, liking the sturdy grip. This was no sloucher. “I’m Auggie Grassi.” He waited for Mike to speak up.

The hand Brian is shaking has an interesting gold band on one finger. Both men look down, then glance back up at each other.

Brian releases the hand, very slowly. “Do you mind my asking?”

Auggie smiles a wide grin of understanding. “If he’s mine?” He uses his head to point to Mike.

Brian raised a brow in curiosity. “And he would be?” He’d been waiting for someone to say the dark beauty’s name.

Mike is so tired of this flirting. “HE can speak for himself. Thank you!” He yanks on Brian’s hand. “Michael Novotny.” In all his frustrations, Michael has literally shaken Brian’s hand beyond any normal point of greeting.

“Sweetie, we got all the time in the world.” Brian smirked at Michael’s inherent shyness. He uses his other hand to slow the handshake down.

Was Michael actually blushing? “Gosh ... I’m sorry.”

Auggie clamped Michael on his shoulder knocking him out of some trace. “He’s adorable, isn’t he?”

Brian snickered at the close relationship displayed between these two men. “That he is, Auggie. That he is.”

~*~  
 ****I suppose if I had been my normal predatory self, I would have made my move days ago when I had the opportunity nearly dropped in my lap. Something about the way he was standing with his friends told me he was “off limits” that night. This was his second night here, at Babylon, hanging out with those two boys of his. He seemed to only come on the weekends. Like some forbidden retreat from a regular life or at least trying to forget he had a life, for the time being.**

 **I didn’t know why I was attracted. These days I usually went for older men. There was something sweet and kind about his face. The pure smiles that infiltrated his pale features or how the night breeze tended to ruffle his stiff-gelled spiked hair off his head. Cut close it amazed me that the hair could still appear tousled. Dark, raven locks flowing every which way but the direction of a brush. He was allowing a few hairs to grow around his mouth and chin area. The facial pubes did his features justice, making his face appear more angular. Gave me late might images of being able to run my hands over each individual brittle hair. Good Lord, I was pathetic. I didn’t even know his name, yet I’ve probably dreamed about him more often than willing to admit.**

 ****

 **I pushed my back up off the brick lined alley way, tucking my freezing hands into my tight black jeans pockets. I knew what this did to my body, drawing attention to my groin. Pulled taunt across my raging hard-on the well-worn material would bulge in the right places. The night air was growing cooler, showing signs of the seasons changing, of fall into winter. I despised winter of all the seasons to walking and making a living on the streets. I admit it was quite fun to play with my breath, trying to catch the fog I had blown into the air, but it got boring after awhile.**

 ****

 **The Johns I was able to gather, for the evening, were few and far between. The picking slim, in winter months, because not even the most perverted freaks had the balls to come out in cold weather. Hell, I didn’t even want to be out, but I had to earn my money some how. The landlord liked being paid on time and my bills were piling up. I must admit, the part-time waiter gig I had going at the underground gay club paid a fairly decent wage, but the regulars were stale. I had felt the urging for some new blood.**

 ****

 **As I ventured near the crowds of men waiting to enter Babylon, I drew closer to the tiny circle of men I shared street time with. The money they made was mostly used to go toward getting into clubs and partying the entire night away. I didn’t dig that scene. They made decent money, but completely wore out their bodies with the constant drug recreation. Some were expecting to meet Mr. Right, the man who would sweep them off their feet, but I had loftier expectations.**

 ****

 **Most of my Johns were one-nighters. My dark-haired angel was keeping me interested. His laughter was contagious. A few of the surrounding couples became fast friends with him. I made my way into my group. They had staged themselves exactly where I could have a particularly unobstructed view of him. The more I watched, the more intrigued I became. I had to find out his name before the night was over.**   
**  
I pretended like I was into the conversation one of my street family was carrying, laughing at the right place with everyone else. I took a drag on my cigarette. My third one for the evening and the night was still young. My lightweight, hip-length leather jacket kept some of the cold from getting under my white T-shirt. I shuffled closer, as I learned quickly that he was turning more to face out of the wind, which nearly put us back to back. I crossed my arms over my chest to close the opening of my jacket. I listened to what was being said behind me.**

 ****

 **“I don’t know how you manage to do it. I’m truly amazed that you have been able to fully immerse yourself into their society. While still remaining to have this ‘other’ life that no one seems to question you about.” A dark brown haired friend spoke up. He appeared more “straight” than all the other men outside the club. He looked too clean cut and All American to be standing outside Babylon.**

 ****

 **Next came the second friend who was openly gay, and flamboyant. He was showing his best assets in the weirdest ensemble of Fuchsia pleather pants and a Zebra printed Lycra shirt. Over that, he had on a tacky, fur-lined cream colored jacket. There was just to many patterns on him to look at one thing. His short-cropped, light brown hair had little swaths of blond flaring through, brushed forward on his forehead. As he talked, his hands were all over the place. “Really, honey. You need to be more careful. If it’s one thing I know, it’s that it ain’t the best thing to hide form them for too long. Eventually they get curious, then they start asking questions ... which you can’t answer because you’ve forgotten which lie you’ve told and which ones you haven’t used, yet. ‘Til the one day you get caught in a mess you’d have been smarter to stay away from.”**

 ****

 **Then HE spoke. “You’re just jealous because my girlfriend is cuter than you.” He laughed a this own humor, knowing that his friend would take the ribbing in stride.**

 **A hand came out and playfully shoved him on the shoulder. “Oh, no you did not!”**

 **“Oh ... yes, I did!” He slapped back.**

 **“OH! No you didn’t!” The friend pushed harder, this time.**

 ****

 **“Behave children!”**

 ****

 **“Hey! Watch it!”**

 **The jostling landed him square on my back and made me falter in my own stance. I shuffled about to grab hold of him as he almost fell to the hard concrete and gravel. Mostly, I had him in a dip mode. He was laying, stretched over my arm. I held his slight warm frame close to my freezing body. Somewhere my cigarette had fallen. I blew smoke directly from the side of my mouth. “Are you alright?”**

 **His eyes! He had to have eyes that crinkled, melting you with their simple gaze. He was giggling at the near disaster I had evaded for him. “Yeah ... perfect. How ‘bout you?”**

 **I inhaled on a whim, injecting the most delicious musky scent into my lungs. I couldn’t help but grin. His smile was infectious. I wanted to keep holding him as he started to chuckle deeply. The movement made his entire body shudder against my chest. Felt good to have this kind of human contact. Like I had been missing something all my life. Soothing in a weird way.**

 **I knew I was out of his league the second I looked away from him. I saw how his friend’s reacted to me. I was holding their precious friend to my dirty body, in their eyes. Like I was violating him in ways I never even knew how to. What the hell did they know about me to judge me so quickly? “Peachy.” I set him to stand, straight, next tome. I was lost in his stare. Like he needed to know who his savior had been. I turned back to face my group of friends. Letting him know that I wasn’t going to pursue anything.**

 **I felt like the lowest of heels. Better for him to know now, then for him to be hurt later.**

 **But, seeing him at Babylon again changed my pursuit. I was burning to know him better, if only as a good friend. I hadn’t had one of those in years.****  
~*~  
**************************************************  
**************************************************  
~*~  
 ****

 ****Michael. Mike. Mikey. I’ve got a name to go with that haunting face. I thought it would dwindle. Those dreams of him. Nope. They had to fuckin’ intensify, and magnify, about ten times infinity.**

 ****

 **In my reality, and in my waking body, I knew I didn’t know him. In my subconscious, and in my dreams, which was close to my selfish heart, I knew him better than my own self. I had trained my brain well to forget the Johns that I met. I had taught my cock even better to be satisfied with one night alone.**

 **NO repeats. I lived by many rules ... this was one.**

 **Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Maybe I had a hidden fear of falling in love with every trick I picked up. Like so many of my street brethren, who secretly wished for a warm place to have a decent meal and call it home. I had no time for attachments in my life.****  
~*~

“Hey, Brian ... you up?” A light, airy voice came from the depths of the couch. A spiked blond head popped up from behind the cushions.

~*~  
 ****Well ... HE had been the exception.**

 **Three years ago, I had caught him trying to cruise Liberty Avenue, selling his wares to any old fag on the street. Pittsburgh’s Queer Alley.**

 **I had walked these blocks since I was sixteen. I knew every back alley, every garbage tin and every shitcan building. I had seen plenty of businesses come and go. I had adopted nearly every homeless man/woman as my parental guides. I befriended many of the owners, and managers of the stores and restaurants, because you never knew when a free meal could carry you through until next week. I had taken all the new kids under my wing.**

 **I created my own world ... my orphan family ... instead of forcing myself to withstand the one I had been born into.**

 **I understood the need to run. The need to escape. Hide from the demons that chased you. Funny thing was that demons, for us street people, weren’t always from the imagination. For most ... the demons had actual human flesh.**

 **People who were close-minded and misunderstood. People who didn’t want to listen to anything but the sound of their own voice and lecture. Some of the kids had been emotionally abused. Some had just been abandoned. Others, like me, had been physically, emotionally and verbally shattered.**

 **I had been minding my Ps and Qs. Smoking on my usual corner, near the lamp post. The blond kid bumped into me. Almost knocked me into the gutter.**

 **Fuckin’ punk ass! Thought he was in Disneyland! Liberty Avenue, lit up at night, was in glorious Technicolor. Street lights and neon signs glowing. Billboards and back-lit marques inviting folks in for drinks and fun. Every inch of pavement had something interesting to see.**

 **Newbies were easy to spot. Their mouths open wide and their necks in a permanent crick.**

 **Blond kid asked me where was a good place to “get laid”. Laid? Who the fuck said “laid” anymore? I nearly laughed my ass off. Dirty words must not have been allowed to pass through those ripe pink lips very often.**

 **Sucking on the butt of my cigarette, I blew smoke directly into his face. He blinked, nearly choking, which was funny since he had been smoking, as well. First time, for everything, I guess.**

 **Oh. Now, I got it. The “kiddie” was getting tired of playing in the baby pool ... so he figured he could enter the Adult Pool and fiddle his way in? I could understand that. Curiosity intrigued most gay men new to the “scene”. Tired of jerking off to porno mags and skin flicks.**

 **This kid was hardly a man, yet. Still a pretty boy. Barely seventeen, if that even. His cornflower blues spelled fear. I knew that fear well. I had lived it. And I think I might be doing a fuckin’ kick ass job of surviving it, so far.**

 **He spoke like he had just finished a cram session on a book titled Complete Gay Boy’s Guide to Homosexuality. Talked the lingo, walked with a meandering confidence most boys his age would hide and he had the smooth use of snappy comebacks that I was becoming envious of.**

 **Took me years to become like him. And here he was, fresh off the Big Yellow School Bus. I liked him. I really did. I guess that’s why I decided to become his tour guide.**

 **I knew, without a doubt, the kid wasn’t prepared for Babylon. No newbie is ever prepared for Babylon on their first night. No... one his first night I introduced him to the lighter side at Woody’s. The back alleys haunts that most of my street children worked on. Sucking cock and jacking off. It was clean and quick, especially on cold nights like this. I told him where to go and what to avoid. Interesting thing was, he listened, which most of his generation didn’t. They looked at me as another *parent* trying to tell them what to do. How was I to make them realize I was saving their sweet asses?**

 **Too many nameless freaks came out at night. This profession made it easy to become a victim of a crime. You either got home by a good hour or you found yourself on some police precinct’s John Doe missing list. Then you would really upset your parents... beyond what you had really meant to.**

 **Me? My parents were the kind who cared more about themselves and what the neighbors thought, then how their own children fared. Shit! I hated when my old memories brought me back to thinking about them... I wish I didn’t still care what they thought about me... my one hang-up... still needing my parents’ love. How fuckin’ pathetic was that?****  
~*~

“Yeah, man.” Brian blew the smoke up in the air, placing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Justin?”

Sighing heavily, Justin put on his jeans as he folded up the linen he used last night. “I know, but... I hate those tutoring sessions. I dropped out of high school for a reason, Brian.” He picked up a T-shirt laying on the coffee table, sniffing for cleanliness. He stood in his bare feet, making his way up the two steps to head into the small bedroom. Brian’s Domain. He loved how the older man looked splayed out underneath his covers, completely confident in his nakedness. God, he looked sexy! He wished... he had secretly wished that Brian would have been his *first*, just so he could know what having a *taste * of Brian Kinney was like. But Brian had standards. Fuckin’ standards as a hustler? Seemed a shame, really. He came to sit on the side of the bed. Sometimes it was just enough to watch Brian in simple motions of the day.

“I’m paying for these fuckin’ tutoring sessions so you can pass the GED in the spring... you ungrateful asshole!” Brian rolled over to snuff out the butt in the ashtray. He went back to laying down, using both arms to cover his face. “Now leave me the fuck alone. I still need my beauty sleep.”

“I’m sorry, Brian. I know how much this is costing you, but I didn’t ask you to become my surrogate parent.” Justin almost could reach out and touch the bare leg, bent at the knee, covered with fine dark hairs, but he used the hand to rub the ruffled hair out of his eyes. “I already have a father... albeit a shitty one, but he’s mine.”

“I’m happy for you. And I know you also have a secret boyfriend, too... so you can forget tryin’ to work your sentimental emotions over me. I didn’t ask you to live this life. You chose yourself to become a part of the street. I’m just making sure I’m not called in to identify your body when the cops find you, shoved in a dumpster.”

Justin blushed, which was weird that a gay hustler could still find things to blush about. “He’s not my... anything. Christ, Brian.... he’s about your age...” Justin laughed at the glare Brian gave him for that comment. “Okay, he’s gorgeous... a few years older... completely brilliant in everything he does, but I don’t know... he just doesn’t see ME.”

This time Brian sat up, the bed sheet falling to his waist. “What do you expect him to see, when you get like this? I’m paying for your school, I give you a little bit of extra cash when you need new clothes AND I let you crash here when you’re short on rent. I swear sometimes you want to be treated like shit... just to get to act your age. I know you’re better than that. Look at you... who’d have thought you’d survive that first night... alone... without your Daddy and Mommy to tuck you in. I sure didn’t. I can only do so much, Justin. I have to take care of myself, too. You’re not my responsibility.”

“Nah... I’m not, but you love me just the same.” Justin didn’t care any more. Crawling across the bed, he gave a soft peck to Brian’s cheek as he scampered away to make them breakfast. “How do you want your eggs?” He yelled over his shoulder on his way into the tiny kitchen.

Brian scrunched up his face, wiping at the sloppy kiss he’d been given. Shit! He knew what kind of heart he really had, but showing it... expressing it... would make him too vulnerable to other people. Why couldn’t people just accept help and be done with it? Petty emotions were such a waste of his time. “Preferably... *cooked* this time, Chef Taylor!” He plopped back down on the bed.

“You never taught me how to use the gas on your stove! Not my fault!” Justin hated being reminded of his first failure at cooking in Brian’s apartment.

“Whatever!” There was a ruffling of bed sheets as Brian got up from his prone position on his bed. He walked over to the rolling racks of clothes, representing his closet, to pick out his clothes for the morning. “I’m gonna take a shower!” He felt he needed to inform the young man.

Opening up the cabinets to find the fry pan, Justin looked up to catch a quick flash of Brian’s naked backside. He dipped his head under the stove hood to sneak another peek. GAWD! Everything about Brian Kinney was gorgeous. Breathtakingly beautiful. He watched for a few seconds more, then turned away to head tot he fridge. “Bacon or sausage?!”

“I don’t care!” Brian went through his dresser to choose underwear. He slammed the drawer shut a little too loudly. “It’s all fuckin’ pork to me!”

Justin loved to irritate Brian, especially early in the morning. “Toast or English muffins?!” He looked in the breadbox to see what Brian even had left for groceries.

Poking his head around the wall that separated his bedroom from the rest of the small apartment, Brian grinned through his agitation. “Hey... how ‘bout this... we stop playin’ fuckin’ 20 questions... and you just try to fuckin’ surprise me.”

Justin cracked the eggs on the edge of the pan. “So... what are you tryin’ to tell me...” He smirked as he watched Brian walk away in frustration. Brian had his own door to the only bathroom in the tiny apartment. For a shithole, Brian had really accomplished making the space work for him. The walls were dark, most of the built in furniture was cherry wood and the only source of light came from up on the bedroom platform where a huge picture window sat, curtains drawn.

~*~  
 ****I don’t know why I put up with him. This Justin kid. Justin Taylor, to be exact. He consistently annoys the shit out of me, but I cling to him, like I do all my other street family. Maybe it’s my own pussy-whipped idea of wanting to be a father, just so I could show Jack Kinney... my own Dear Old Pop... the way a REAL man can be a father. I think I’ve done alright, by myself.**

 **I’ve probably been called plenty of cruel names when I try to devise my own discipline to the homeless kids I hang around and come in contact with. I try not to be too overpowering, but like I told Justin... I don’t EVER wanna have to be ask to identify a body I know in the morgue. That, alone... would fuckin’ break my heart.**

 **I know it’s foolish, but I lock both my bathroom doors. One from the apartment itself, then the one down from my bedroom. Hey, not like I don’t trust the kid, or any other person I might invite back here, but... my career choice seems to make most people *assume* that I’m easy. That it doesn’t take much to get me in the sack. Like I have sex on the brain 24-7... which is true in most cases, but I have some semblance of modesty.**

 **Never bring *work* home... that’s another rule of mine. Johns never see my apartment nor do I give them my real phone number.**

 **I don’t want anyone to get any ideas that I could ever grow attached to them. I’m their fantasy man. I’m their midnight lover. I’m the magic number that kicks their sex lives into high gear. Sound egotistical? Uh... maybe, but it’s the truth.  
And when you got *I-T*... honey... you must flaunt it.**

 **I liked hot water. Felt cleansing for the purpose of washing off a good night’s work. One thing I loved about this apartment complex... unlimited amounts of hot water. I turned on the faucets to single to anyone listening that I was starting my mid-morning ritual.**

 **I stepped over the edge of the clubbed foot tub, pulling the soft/rubberized shower curtain in it’s place. I allowed the first spray of water cascade down the perfect slope of my naked back. Christ! Some nights called for me to find a decent masseur.**

 **Forgetting I had company... and very thin walls... I groaned as the aching, tight muscles were relieved of their tension.****  
~*~

Brian walked out of the bathroom, into the apartment, fully dressed for the morning. Plush gray knit sweater over a white Henley, a pair of faded, form-fitting jeans molded his lower half. He exited the steamy bath rubbing a towel over his head. His feet bare, he padded over to the table that Justin had set for them. He made a face at the quaint romantic settings. Lord... sometimes he wished Justin would buy a fuckin’ clue. Hello? Not interested!

Justin took the chair across from Brian, opening up the napkin on his lap. He poured himself some orange juice. “Did you have a satisfying... uh... shower?!” He bit at his toast, hoping he wouldn’t spray crumbs while trying to hold back his laughter.

“What I do in my own shower... is none of your fuckin’ business... Brat!”

“Hey... who knew you’d have sensitive water issues!”

Brian chuckled at the snarky comeback. “Eat your damn breakfast. And maybe I’ll walk with you to school.”

Justin pretended he was rough and tough. “I don’t need you to hold my hand while I cross the street.”

“I couldn’t care less whether you get run over or not. I’m makin’ damn sure my investment is paying off. I will walk you to the tutoring sessions because I want to, you ingrate! Not because it’s a fuckin’ duty!”

“Has any kid ever returned home under your care? ‘Cause I think I’d rather have my father’s oppression than your screwy fucked up leadership.”

Brian opened his arms wide. “No one is holdin’ you down, Mighty Fag. Run back home to Daddy, with your tail between your legs, for all I care. Just know... you only get one chance with me. If you go home, expecting to find yourself welcomed, time and time again, like a lost little brother... think again. Runaways, in my care, who better themselves are told to never look back. If I need to know how you’re doing... I will find you. I”m clever like that.” He let out a sly smile as he began eating the food.

“Wow!.. You’re kind of like every homeless, orphan kid’s Daddy Warbucks.”

“Piece of advice, Annie.... sometimes it takes a lot longer for the *sun* to come out, then tomorrow... so buckle up and prepare to wait it out.”

“Good things come to those who wait.” Justin supplied as he wolfed down the rest of his plate. He walked his dishes to the sink. Coming back over to the backpack he’d brought with him, Justin grabbed some clean clothes and a few toiletries. “If you don’t mind me using your shower, I ‘m gonna clean myself up for the Good Professor.”

Justin was almost through the door when Brian called out to him. “Hey! What’s his name again?”

Holding on to the doorjamb, Justin became curious. “I thought you didn’t DO names, Brian.”

“Well...” Brian cackled out a smooth response. “I don’t plan on fuckin’ him, so you can wipe that catty jealousy off your face. I have my own reasons for asking. If it’s such a burden for you to recall all the letters.... there’s ways of me finding out on my own.” He brushed the young man off to continue with his shower.

“It’s Ben. Ben Bruckner.” Justin quickly closed the door, making sure the slam was heard.

The name rang a *bell* in Brian’s head. He felt instant anger, for some unknown reason, but it couldn’t be for Justin’s sake. Had to be that he had heard the name somewhere else.

Another life? A different period of time?

Little did he know...

 **~~TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

The white unmarked van pulled up to the back of Liberty Diner. The appointment had been for eleven thirty. The driver was an hour early... only because he had come to visit with his favorite *mother* and possibly partake of her fine cuisine.

The cook was taking out the trash when he paused throwing the plastic bags in the garbage tins. Hands on hips he pushed back his poor excuse for a Chef’s hat. “Well... as I live and breathe. Are you a sight for sore eyes, or what?” He waited until the driver exited the van completely before clamping a hand in the strong grip. “Sorry for the greasy hands... we’ve had a busy week.”

“Yeah... and I know I wasn’t any help. I called two weeks ago and Debbie promised that the order could be filled. I’m not expecting much, so just point me in the right direction...” The driver walked around to the back of the van to open the doors. “I’ll load what I can of what you have.”

Wiping his dirty hands on his apron, the cook frowned. “Ain’t you even gonna come say *hi*... she’s missed you a lot. Talked you up to loads of her regulars. About what you do for the street kids and the homeless families.... shit! Not to mention this new thing with the Hospice. Debbie’s mighty proud of what you’ve been able to do. I’m sure she’d like to tell you so herself.”

Hiding behind the doors, the driver cleared the floor space in the back of the van, unsure of what he come to pick up. “I’m sure she’s busy. I don’t want to bother her. I know how she hates to walk away from behind that counter.”

The cook nodded his head in understanding, but he walked closer, almost hanging off one of the doors to the van. “I know, but you gotta let that shit about Jason Kemp go, man. Out of all those lives you saved... why does this particular one get your gut?”

The driver shrugged. “He was one of the good ones, I suppose. Too special for the streets. It ate me up to see him on his own. I thought I had done everything I could. Taught him every way to protect himself. I let him go... too soon.”

The cook, put up his hands to show he’d done all he could. “Can I at least bring you out some lunch? On the house? Sound good?”

“You sure, Walter? I don’t wanna take a perfectly good burger away from a good paying customer.”

“You got to be kiddin’ me. Half those gay boys in there want the Veggie burger. It’s a real damn shame.... a fuckin’ crime... all those beautiful cows goin’ to waste. I got loads of real ground beef to spare, my friend. Just tell me you still like your burger smothered, covered and medium well... and everything else will be a surprise.”

“Got to it, my man.”

The cook had only been gone for two minutes when the driver of the van heard feet shuffling on the tiled floor. He swiveled thinking Walter was returning for some more conversation.

“What the fuck do YOU think you’re doin’ here?”

“I’m sorry... I can wait in the van, if that’s better for you...” The driver crawled down from the empty crates, near the garbage he’d been sitting on.

“You too good for my restaurant?” Debbie Novotny stood in her colorful outfit, her button-laden vest on her and her bracelets just a jangling away. She crossed her arms over her ample bosom.

“I’ve never been... good enough for your fine establishment”

“Brian Kinney... you get your sweet, fine-looking ass over here and give me the respectful greeting I deserve. I may not be your mother, but I know I come damn close. Don’t think you can quickly come in, pass on through and NOT say *hello* to me.” Debbie held open her arms wide for Brian. “Come here, you little shit.”

“Does this ever work with your real family?”

“My son loves me.”

“As he should.” Brian stepped up to fall into those familiar comforting arms he remember all his young street life. He bussed her cheek, lifting her off the ground, holding her tightly to his body. “I missed you, Deb.”

Debbie smacked his biceps to be put down. “Who’s friggin’ fault is that?”

“I know. I know.” Brian put up his hands to ward off her particular form of *love taps*... upside the head. “I just... I thought it was best to stay out of the way with everything that went on with Jason Kemp.”

“Bullshit!”

“Bless you!”

“You ran... because you were scared. Scared that whoever you think killed Jason would resurface to rid Liberty Avenue of more unwanted, unneeded and unloved scum. I know you, Kinney. I’ve known you since your skinny ass sat in my booth when you were sixteen. So I figured you would feel it best to help Jason out by going further underground... making sure his parents knew he’d be remembered, that his spirit would live on in every other kid like him on the street... you gave him a fuckin’ decent burial.”

“You knew about all that?”

“I pay attention to what my customers talk about. I pay particular close attention to the young kids who admire you. Not that they want to emulate you, but they want to BE like you... have those strong convictions and values. You’re their Everyday Hero, Brian.”

Brian shook his head in embarrassment. “No , I’m not... I don’t do this to get recognized. Anyone could take my place.”

“Again... with the bullshit...”

“Okay... fine.” Brian shook his body to rid himself of the shiver down his spine. He hated this kind of glory people felt they had to shift on him. The gratitude was not necessary. “While I wait for my food... you wanna show me what I’m here to pick up.” Brian was expecting a few prepared dinners. “I really appreciate this, Debbie.” He followed Debbie as she walked him to a separate back room behind the kitchen.

“Brian... you might have to make several trips for this stuff.”

Brian screwed up his face as he waited for Debbie to open the door and switch on the light. His jaw dropped in amazement. The entire room was layered in Styrofoam take-out containers. “What? This is... too much...” Brian exhaled breathlessly as he stepped into the space that was left. “Deb...” He turned to face Debbie directly. “What did you do? How did you make all this in such short time?”

Debbie smiled easily as she looked over her handiwork. “Amazing what a few frustrated PFLAG mothers will do for their gay & lesbian children. I told them about your *crusade*. That you try to do this every so often to show them that there are still human beings who care... that they aren’t alone in the world.”

“How did you bribe them to help out? This is a lot more than what I expected.”

Debbie shrugged in nonchalance. “Not much, really. Just said what if... this food was going to your runaway child or your sick family member in Hospice. See... motivation, nil.... results, endless.”

Brian moved to hug Debbie to his body. “You make me feel really awful that I didn’t come around more often. I should be spanked... repeatedly.” He placed kisses all over her chubby face.

“Christ NO! I’m afraid you’d like it too much, kiddo!” Debbie chuckled at the ticklish feelings. She grabbed on to Brian’s jacket lapels. “Hey... I want you to come meet someone.”

“Who?”

“My son...”

Brian hung off of Debbie, keeping her in his arms, swaying with her. “So NOW I get to meet the infamous *son*. I wasn’t worthy all those lowly years ago. What makes it different this time?”

Debbie made a sad face. “He’s worrying me, Brian. With my brother, he came right out to me.... but... I don’t know... he seems lost. Like he doesn’t know where he belongs.”

“You think he’s gay.”

“There was always something *queer* about him.”

Brian chuckled at the loose term. “Yeah... that’s the problem with picking out gays in a crowd.”

Debbie *love tapped * him on the shoulder. “I’m being serious here, Kinney!”

“I know you are. Do you want me to use my special *gay-dar* to check him out? Tell you if he’s a nice Hetero-King... or a Big Nelly-Queen?”

“I don’t want you to fuck him, you egotistical asshole.... I just thought you’d two would get along. You're both the same age. You went to the same damn schools....” Debbie realized that Brian tried to form as few attachments as he could. “Forget it.”

“Hey!” Brian grabbed for the hand that flew threw the air to tell him to forget she ever said a word. “Look, Deb... one day... I want to meet your beautiful son, but for now, there’s other things I need to take care of.”

“How do you know he’s beautiful?” There was a certain level of pride in her smile.

“You kiddin’... with a looker for a mother like you... and if he has YOUR heart and capacity for love, compassion... Whew! No man, woman or child would be safe.” Brian dipped his head to press another kiss to Debbie’s reddening cheek. “Come on, Wonder Woman... help me load this fuckin’ van.”

“Sweet talker, you.” Debbie managed to grab enough facial flesh to get in a substantial pinch

***************************************************

Brian was in the midst of sharing one of the small cafeteria tables with his old friends when he spotted a very familiar face, from a few nights ago. The man looked like one of Michael’s friends that had given Brian dirty looks that night. Brian tried to listen to what Marcus was saying, but he was steadily watching the strange man he recognized. The man walked right up to one of the nurses/counselors at the Hospice.

Not knowing what, or who, they could be discussing, Brian attempted to return eating the hamburger that Walter had brown bagged for him. It was difficult to concentrate, placing his undivided attention on the discussion at the table.

“What do you think, Brian?” Marcus inquired to the young man he’d befriended from the streets years ago. A long battle with a rare form of cancer was slowly eating away at his once whipcord, muscular body.

Brian volleyed his head between the two different interests. “About what?” He was trying to quickly pack up what he hadn’t eaten of his lunch. “Sorry guys... I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“No, shit!” Marcus frowned as he watched Brian prepare to exit the room. “Hey... what’s got you so spooked, honey?” Looking all around him, Marcus tried to notice what could have motivated Brian into leaving so soon. He spotted the stranger’s approach. “Not bad, Kinney. He’s a cutie... if that’s what you’re going after.”

Under his breath, Brian began to stand to respond. “More like gettin’ out of Dodge.” Brian had stood, prepared to kiss and hug everyone *goodbye*. Too late... Marcus grabbed his wrist at the last minute. Giving Marcus’ hand a thankful squeeze, Brian smiled broadly, hoping to be let go of. His need to escape was growing more prominent. “Next time, Marc... I promise to stay longer. Right now I have one more place to drop some food off to...”

“But, sweetie... these visits get shorter and shorter... the months in between you tend to stretch out more. I may not be here the *next* time you return.” Marcus understood Brian’s need to distance himself, but his heart was always in the right place.

This time Brian stood to his full height. He stared at the man who was staring at him. Brian continued to hold onto Marcus’ hand. “What do you want?”

“Brian, please. Don’t be so rude. Introduce us.”

The sandy-blond haired stranger let loose a wide smile that showed the slight gap in his front teeth. “No, I’m the one who must apologize, honey. Brian would introduce us, but I’m afraid he doesn’t know my name.” Holding out a hand, the offer was made toward Marcus. “Emmett Honeycutt.”

Marcus looked up at Brian who was trying to avoid calling attention to himself. Poor thing wanted to leave so badly. “Marcus Wyatt. If you don’t mind my askin’... you seem a fairly healthy young buck, what brings you about these parts?”

Emmett played with the scarf hanging down his neck. “I have a good friend of mine... in the AIDS wing... Lady Godiva... do you know her?”

Marcus sniffled a laugh. “Know her?... Darlin’ I dated her once, way back when... Great kisser...” Marcus shut his eyes as if recalling a good memory. He reopened them again to face reality. “One good thing I can say about this Death Hole is that at least I get to see some familiar faces. Godiva used to babysit Brian here, for me, when I had to work.”

Emmett seemed to find this very interesting to know about Brian. “Really? Makes me wonder why we didn’t bump into each other. I wonder why that is.” He turned his head to glance sheepishly at Marcus.

Brian hated being talked about over his head. “I’ve been on my own, on the street since I was twenty... I didn’t need the parental support of my peers any longer.”

Emmett squinted his eyes to look directly at what exactly Brian Kinney appeared to be. “But those peers are in need of you... this time.... and here you are...”

Brian didn’t want to be made fun of. “Here I am... and here I go!” He bussed Marcus on the cheek and waved to the other gentlemen at the table. “I’ll see you...” He picked up his jacket where he had placed it on a nearby chair.  
“Brian! Wait!” Emmett picked up a quick pace to follow into the hurried steps with Brian. “What are you frightened of? I’m not a big scary queer like I look...”

Brian was impressed at the stretch of legs that Emmett could walk along with him. “It’s not that.” They had made it outside, near the back of the Hospice building, where the white unmarked van sat. He yanked open the driver’s door. “Look, I realize that my profession proceeds me, but I don’t need to be played with in order to catch your *drift*. Your friend is safe from me.” He climbed into the driver’s seat.

Emmett pulled on his mittens, wrapping his scarf around, and around, his neck. “Hey... I’m sorry... first impressions, you know. Ted and I get a little overprotective with Michael. He’s...” Emmett tried to find an exact word to describe his best friend. He chose to use descriptive situations to bring out his point. “Michael’s the only friend I have that likes me for... the Nelly Queen I really am. He’s having a very difficult time coming out in his own right. I wanna help him so badly. Give him back everything he’s given of himself to me, but I can’t force him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. One thing that’s frustrating about Michael is that he worries more about what the World thinks of him... of what he should be, of how he should live, of WHO he should love... than what he believes of himself.”

Brian slammed the door, turning on the ignition to get the chilled van warmed up. He placed his own leather gloves on his cold hands. “And what does that mean for me? I told you... I won’t bother Michael.”

Emmett shook his head, placing his hands over the ledge of the open window of the driver’s door. “I’m trying to apologize, Brian. We assumed you were...”

“Trash? Garbage? Too dirty and below scum to even touch one little inch of Michael?”

“Man... did we really come off that terrible? Ted and I are very tame... wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Separate, I’d believe... together... you’re both very intimidating.” Brian smirked looking at Emmett, hoping he could notice a tease when it happened.

“Wow! Like a Queer Gang? The Pink Mafia?” Emmett let out the deepest chuckles. “Oh, you are more than I bargained for, Brian Kinney! Can we start off on a new foot?” He was slightly jumping up and down on the tips of his toes. “Please, please, please... pretty please! I hate knowing what damage we’ve done to you... after seeing what you did for Godiva... and her similar brethren. I am indebted to your kind heart. I always hope that when I’m not around that someone picks up the reigns and watches over these wonderful people here.”

Brian had to look away. The know understanding about the term of *hospice* was that... it was just a matter of time. “How long do you think she has?”

Emmett felt his eyes begin to water. “I’m hoping... until Gay Pride... so she can don her old gown and march along with us. I swear, I will roll that lard ass into a wheelchair if I have to. I told her to begin planning her debut....” His voice cracked slightly as he turned to look into the sun. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Brian let out a loud laugh. “Oh! GAWD! You want me to introduce Michael to the finer ways of homo-sexuality!?”

Emmett slapped Brian’s arm. “Shut! UP! I do not! If you come... and Michael and you find that you can finagle some *alone* time... then that will be handled when the moment comes. NO! I’m trying to invite you to a normal intimate dinner party... casual dress. I’m throwing Michael a small party in honor of... well, you’ll just have to accept my invitation to find out.” Reaching inside his soft camel skin wool jacket, Emmett pulled out a business card. “That’s my loft address... which is my business address, too. I run my own catering, party planner shindig. It’s called GUAVA JELLY.” Emmett paused normally used to people questioning the odd name of his company.

Brian took the gorgeous business card. Shit! If Emmett worked this hard to have just a simple card like this... then there was no telling what he’d put into planning parties. “After the Bob Marley song?”

Emmett was shocked by Brian knowing the obscure musical reference. “Sort of... I’m a fan of Barbara... she covered a track on her BUTTERFLY album in 1974.”

“Barbara?”

“Streisand.”

“Oh, of course.” Brian pocketed the card. “I’m not exactly saying NO, but... don’t feel bad if I don’t show up.”

“Whew! Well... I can take relief that you’re not refusing. Please, don’t let anything Ted, or I, may have said... or a way we may have *looked* at you... as influencing your decision. Mike’s a Big Boy. I can promise you that we will butt out... as of now.” Emmett tried to laugh off his nerves. This approachable, unselfish Brian was... disturbing.

Shrugging his shoulders, Brian looked at Emmett in earnest. “Be assured, I don’t take offense to what other people may think of me. My skin’s fairly thick... and it’s a fuckin’ waste of my time. I completely understand. If I had Michael as my best friend... well, I think I’d lay down my own life in order to protect him. He seems to bring that out of everyone around him. One night he was with some Blond Adonis named... I think he said his name was Auggie...”

Emmett’s eyes widened in shock. He bit his lip to squelch his little squeal of delight. “Oh, honey... you passed the *Gus Test*. You’re practically family.” He felt strange to see a perfect match for Michael in this Hustler with a Heart of Gold. Reminded him of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

Brian had a strong shiver run down his spine at the use of another nickname of the man he’d met the other night. “Excuse me, what did you call him?” He felt like he had heard that name from somewhere. Like there was another “Gus”, close to him, that he should know.

“Michael calls Gus... Auggie. Vic and Gus practically raised Michael for a few years.” Emmett noticed Brian’s look of confusion. “Okay... hold on... I’ll bring you up to speed. Vic is Michael’s Uncle... Gus has been Vic’s boyfriend since... gosh... seems like they’ve known each other forever. Gus and Vic had a commitment ceremony, a few decades back, when it wasn’t the IN thing for gay men to marry. Hard to say who’s the husband and wife in that relationship.” Emmett realized that he might be keeping Brian from his work. “You have a few more places to visit, before you call it a day?”

“One more shelter. Then I’ll pack it in. Car rental company closes at four-thirty.”

Emmett shook his head in flabbergasted wonderment. How had this poor man slipped through the cracks of society? Like he was some Quiet Hero that should never surface to accept the gratefulness of all who he helped. Patting the window ledge, which allowed him to caress Brian’s forearm, he pushed his body away from the driver’s door. “I’ll let you go then.”

Brian was about to shift gears when he glanced over at Emmett. “Don’t tell Michael. I don’t want you to get his hopes up if something comes up and I don’t make it.”

Emmett tried to find pleasure in not getting a direct *yes* or *no* answer. He placed his hands in his jacket pockets. “If that’s the way you want to handle it, but... I really don’t see the harm...” The way Brian looked away quickly told Emmett that it was better to just do what he asked. “Hope I see you there... no matter what you choose to do.”

“I’ll try my best.” Brian drove off, catching sight of Emmett in the side view mirror. The small wave of *goodbye* wasn’t lost on him. He contemplated the sudden change in Michael’s friend’s attitude. For a second, Brian thought he should go, but then... he wouldn’t make any money tonight.

Then he wondered, just a teensy bit, whether Emmett was requesting him to come to the party... or really purchasing his services for his confused friend, Michael. Brian knew Emmett had said differently, but life had taught him to question all people’s motives. Especially when they knew what his profession was. Not every day that a hustler got invited to a normal party... in a real home....

Brian had learned you were safer to assume the worst in a situation... only to save yourself the heartache that would eventually come. Anything concerning Michael... Brian was learning that his emotions would be put through the ringer.

*******************************************

Brian had fought within himself for hours, before he decided at the last minute to go. Funny... he liked Emmett once he finally saw the bigger picture to Brian’s life. Plus, the opportunity to see Michael again was wearing him down. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror when the front door opened.

“Hi... honey... I’m home!” Justin joked as he threw his back pack on the couch.

Brian rolled his eyes as he rubbed the wax product on his palms, then crinkling his hair, every which way. “There’s dinner for you in the fridge... if you’re hungry!”

Justin pushed the bathroom door open all the way, leaning back on the paneling. “Jesus H., Brian!” His cobalt blue eyes glanced over the sight before him. “You... look fuckin’ H-O-T! What’s the occasion?”

Wiping his hands on a small towel, Brian ignored the cool interest. This was really none of Justin’s business. “A night... without you... talkin’ in my head.”

Justin sniffled out a laugh. “Ha-Ha! That reminds me... I might need to stay one more night. Daphne says the landlord is going away tomorrow... so it looks like I might have another week to gather up this month's rent.”

Looking at Justin’s reflection in the mirror, behind him, Brian spoke to him. “I told you to stay as long as you want. You don’t need to give me a daily log of all your doings. You’re free to go whenever.”

Justin nodded his head, like he knew the answer but just wanted to know that somehow this new piece of information might change Brian’s way of thinking. Justin had slept on the fold-out couch for so long in the past three years that he always believed that Brian would ask him to move in. Okay, not necessarily a boyfriend-type relationship, but just a little bit more feeling... to know that he cared about Justin, slightly differently, then all the other runaway kids. “Guess what?” Then he sadly shook his head. “What am I thinking? You don’t like playing games... so I’ll come straight out and tell you.” He cleared his throat then stared at the back of Brian’s flyaway locks. “Thanks for the offer of dinner, but I have a *date*.”

Brian turned around, leaning his butt on the sink ledge. “You got a date? Where? Chuckie Cheese?”

This time Justin had to laugh along with Brian’s tease. “No, you asshole! Ben asked me out to some fancy restaurant. Turns out he’s likes me, too... well, he’s interested in NOT just my body... told me I have a beautiful smile...” Justin blushed, just like he had in front of Ben.

“Christ! What about your tutoring?”

Speechless, Justin sat with his mouth open. “Didn’t you fuckin’ hear me? I don’t care about the tutoring... for tonight, at least. God! I knew you’d react this way!” He stormed off to head toward the couch where he threw his bag.

Brian walked out of the bathroom, arms across his chest. “I’m thinking of your future. Having a pretty boyfriend is cool... for awhile, but having passed high school, getting your GED and hopefully finding your place in a college and graduating with a degree... will matter a whole helluva lot more than some random cock who *digs* your smile.”

“Forget I said anything.” Justin sat down on the couch undoing the zipper to pull out a book.

Brian looked down at the young man confused. “What are you doing?”

“He gave me homework before he asked me out... said I better do it before I showed up at the restaurant.”

This time Brian lost himself in giggles. “Oh, shit! Forget what said! I like this Ben... he’s a keeper.” He quickly moved to step up into his bedroom.

Now, Justin was frustrated even more. “Since I told you where I’m off to... mind spreading the wealth? Or at the very least, give me a fuckin’ clue.”

“Something tells me, you wouldn’t be satisfied with me saying I’m off to Liberty Avenue.”

“Gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me! Lookin’ as good as you do... in your pea-green tank-T under a long-sleeved black/white thread shirt with... come closer, I can’t tell the animal print...” Brian moseyed over with a hip bared for Justin to see. “Hmm... still can’t tell... like snake or leopard print, leather pants and... oh, cool! Your dark tan leather belt matches your dark tan soft leather shoes... even down to the similar buckles... interesting. Everyone always says you are the snazziest dresser. This is NOT for Babylon... No, this screams *party*, but... where? I don’t know.”

Brian pulled Justin’s wandering hand off his pelvis. “Let’s keep it that way. Shall we?” He went to walk over to the fridge.

“This has something to do with some guy... am I right? The one you've been dreaming about the last few months?”

Brian pulled out a bottle of water to quench his thirst. “How do you know about him?”

Justin walked over to the open breeze way to the kitchen. “You talk in your sleep. Called out his name a few times. I meant to ask you, but I know how closed off you get about your personal life. He’s not one of your Johns, is he?”

“No he isn’t, but then again... this really is NONE of your business.”

Justin became intrigued. “Who is he?”

“Someone... very special...” Brian put back the unfinished bottle of water to pull out the bundle of flowers. “And still... none of your business.” He then paced over to a bottom cabinet where he kept wine bottles. Some from very rich, needy Johns who thought Brian was the best lover they’d ever had. He really wasn’t a wine drinker.

“I don’t get it, Brian. How come you get to have a regular date, but I’m regulated to keep things with Ben on the student/teacher level? He’s made his interest in me known... asked me on a date. How can you justify me walking away from that?”

“I wouldn’t care, Justin... if my money wasn’t paying for your sessions with Ben. If he wants to give these lessons to you for *free* after your *date*... then tell him to reimburse me for the year.” Brian put the flowers and the wine bottle on the counter.

“How can you say something like that and not expect me to get upset? You think Ben’s only reason for askin’ me on this date is to fuck me and get out of paying for the classes?”

“What are you? Twelve? You need to get over yourself. And where the fuck do you get off putting words in my mouth?”

Justin put up his hands. “I give up. There’s really no use in fighting with you, ‘cause I’ll always be wrong.”

“No... not wrong, but lose the attitude. I can live my life any way I see fit, I don’t have to answer correctly for your comfort. I’m doing this... going to this party because... Damn it, man! Someone invited me! And you know what? It’s been a long fuckin’ time since anyone has asked me to come to anything in their own home. Besides to fuck them... and it’s kind of sweet and nice. Shit! I wanna go, as well... so, fuck you Daddy Taylor! I'm gonna do what makes me happy. If that displeases you, then...”

“What if it’s a set-up?”

“Excuse me?”

“How do you know they don’t want you to show up and *service* the whole lot of them?”

Brian finally picked up his flowers and wine. “I’m not even gonna dignify that with an answer.”

Justin plopped down onto the couch. “The all mighty calm and cool... suave and debonair, Brian Kinney goes against his own rules. You know his name...” Justin was ticking each one off on his fingers. “You’re meeting him in a private place... possibly his residence.. And you’ve seen him more then once. There’s three, right there!”

Hanging off the front door, Brian looked back at Justin. “Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”

“Maybe I won’t be here when you get back... I think I’ll chance it and go back tonight, instead of tomorrow.” Justin got out the remark just as the door was slamming shut.

Damn! Brian could really work on his last nerve.

~*~  


 ****Okay... I was pissed. And rightly so. All that I’ve done for that ungrateful brat and he chooses to go for the jugular. Attacking my pride. Sure I’d built my own reputation for leaving hearts in tatters.**

 **Maybe, in my own psychotic way I was going to this small gathering at Emmett’s loft in order to torture myself, fully knowing what would result if I actually showed up. I had left plenty of men begging for more in my trail... maybe it was now, finally, my turn to get a taste of my own medicine.**

 **I hoofed a few blocks, but once the rain started I flagged down a taxi, willing to spare the extra money. I gave the driver the address and he smirked. Obviously this hadn’t been his only trek to the building. As the taxi dropped me off on the sidewalk, I got out noticing that a trio of people came out of a black Lexus, cuddling and giggling under an umbrella. A man and two women. They had no worries, but having a good time. I could understand that.**

 **Knowing that the man in the center of his Ladies had his hands full, I booked to open the door for them. The women offered a light, airy smile, but I was soon forgotten as they zoomed pass me to head toward the elevators. I stepped into the apartment/loft building’s foyer, dripping water over their pretty carpets. I suppose the security guard/doorman noticed my confusion.**

 **Once he was off the phone he made his way to his place by the door. **  
~*~**

 **** **“Can I help you, sir?” The doorman took in Brian’s appearance, swiftly.**

 **Brian shook the wet bangs out of his eyes, pulling out the card Emmett had handed him. “Yeah, I’m looking for...” He was about to point to the name, when he noticed the instant change to the man’s persona.**

 **“Yeah... Em’s party. You wanna head to those back set of elevators, up them stairs and down the hall. Push the 4th floor button.” Pushing Brian in the general direction, the doorman waved lightly. “Tell Em I’m expecting some good leftovers once I get off duty. Have fun.” He went back to his post**

 **Brian was stunned as he walked up the stairs and down the hall to find a huge set of rickety old elevators. They looked like something the hired help would use. Pressing the UP button, he waited patiently for the box to come down. Once the elevator arrived, Brian saw what kind of job it entailed. Not only were there doors that closed, but there was a second layer of plain gate to mess with. He climbed in, pressing the number four button.**

 **As the elevator slowly climbed the floors, Brian could hear the thump-thumping of music. Strange for a small *family* gathering. The loud music didn’t generally go for that kind of crowd. Sounded more like what Babylon would play. The box arrived to the floor, Brian raised the gate as the outer doors opened to full blast what was *supposed * to be something NOT like what he was looking at. Christ All Mighty!**

 **This fucking place was HUGE! Mood lighting and strobes illuminated grinding bodies. Sweaty, half-dressed people were motivated into moving by the beat of the music from a DJ at a large turntable. Even for a man, as experienced as Brian was, this was blowing his mind.**

 **He stepped further into the room, drawn to the possibility of discovering Michael among the fray on the made up dance floor. The closer he walked to the bar area, he could faintly see a separate section set off, from the rest of the party. This section looked like a small family gathering. Glowing lights marked their closeness. Placing the flowers and the wine on the bar, he tucked his thumbs in his back pockets. Something was drawing him toward the comfortable look to the tiny gathering.**

 **Laughter filtered through as the man standing near the low set table went about tearing into wrapped presents. Birthday! It was someone’s birthday! Michael’s... most likely. Why wouldn’t Emmett have wanted to tell him that’s what they were celebrating? He could have bought... wait! Who the fuck was he kidding? Michael was nobody to him. Why would he even think about getting him a gift? Stupid... romantic... fool...**

 **Brian could barely hear what was going on, but by the sound of the laughing going on things were taking off on a good start. He pushed his way through, finding a back view to catch a view of Michael without him knowing. Two women stood in front of him. They were whispering in each other’s ears, getting louder the more wine/alcohol they drank.**

 **“So when’s the BIG SURPRISE supposed to happen?”**

 **“After Mike blows out his candles. Molly’s had this planned for months.”**

 **“I think this is so fuckiin’ awesome.”**

 **“Yeah... me too.”**

 **Lights went down. Two people came out carrying Michael’s cake. The sang a combination Happy Birthday/For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Brian couldn’t help liking that he had this seat to watch Michael secretly. To be a voyeur, like he knew how to do best.**

 **Someone yelled out, “Make a wish! Make a wish!”**

 **Brian closed his eyes, silently saying the mantra of “Wish for me. Wish for me. Wish for me.”**

 **The girls in front of him finished their own drunk version, holding on and hugging each other. “Who knew out of all of us friends... Molly would be the first one of us to get hitched....”“AND... she’d be the one doing the proposing! That girl’s got a huge set of balls!”**

 **Brian bowed his head in shame... his heart... in tatters.... “Oh, Michael...” His hands came up to cover his face.**

 ********************************************************

 **Brian tried to slink out without anyone noticing he had ever arrived. He caught sight of the candles going out, while a young dark-haired woman sidled up to Michael’s side. Her arms were behind her back as if she were holding off a special present. Once they turned on the overhead lights, she would probably propose... right then and there... in front of all her friends, in front of all Michael’s friends... and his family... and of course their mutual friends as a couple.**

 **Brian couldn’t bear to face the moment any longer. Better to hurry, leaving now and forgetting he ever met Michael Novotny... then to drag out this speck of a relationship that would crush his entire emotional, physical and mental well-being.  
** **  
~*~  
**There were few times in my life where I have been knocked speechless, unable to breathe and left completely devastated.**

 **This was one of them.**

 **I had recalled that Michael had joked about his *girlfriend*, just never giving a thought to its validity. Seemed a harmless comment, to me. Why... oh, why do I choose to do this to myself? I’m just not meant for any kind of normalcy in my life.**

 **I was born to be alone.**

 **This... was why I had rules in my life. This... was why I didn’t want to form any attachments with anyone. This... was why I had stayed as far away from falling in love as I could.**

 **I was doing a really good bang-up job, wasn’t I?**

 **I decided to leave the wine and flowers, letting Emmett make the choice whether he wanted to keep them. The only thing I felt like doing was escaping... before they noticed my presence.**

 **NO such luck in that department.**  
~*~**

 **** **“What are YOU doin’ here?”**

 **Keeping his back facing the man connected to the voice, Brian fixed his jacket collar, looking at his reflection in the high windows of the loft building. He made moves like he was calm, cool and collected. No need to act like he was being attacked until... “I was invited.”**

 **“I know. Em told me. What did you think would happen if you showed?” The voice sounded gruff and prepared for battle.**

 **Brian swiftly turned to press the down button. “Don’t worry your pretty little head... Ted. I’m on my way out. You’ll all be safe from my filth.” When he paused to face his adversary directly, Brian had a tiny glimpse of Michael and Molly. She hadn’t been able to ask her question... something, or someone, was stalling her.**

 **“Hey!” Ted moved his head to pick up Brian’s wandering eyes, using his fingers to show Brian to focus on him. “No offense, Kinney, but you might wanna rethink about accepting the next invite.” Snide and prickly, Ted’s body language was prominently displaying his displeasure at finding Brian had the balls to show his face... at all.**

 **Okay... NOW, Brian felt like Ted was trying to personally go for the jugular. “Excuse me?! Wanna run that by me again?! I may not have completed enough schooling to match academic wits with you, but... nothing gives you the right to hit me over the fuckin’ head, politely informing me you’d like to see the back of me.” Damn elevator wasn’t fast enough! Brian scooted over to press the button a few more times.**

 **“So... does this mean you’re just gonna run away? Tail between your legs? Not stay and defend yourself? Protect your sparkling reputation?”**

 **“Do you have a problem with me? Tell me truthfully, Teddy...” That nickname got to Ted the way Brian intended. “If so, why don’t you shut the fuck up, wait a minute or two... and I can find you the perfect solution.” Brian crossed his arms over his chest to stare down Ted. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to fight me? Seriously, you might wanna rethink this. What might have been a *good* idea, in your head... over in your pathetic corner... isn’t such a great idea, face to face with me... right here.”**

 **A few random guests, standing around, suddenly began to realize that this was soon turn ugly if their host didn’t get involved.**

 *****************************************************

 **“HOLY SHIT!” Emmett had just been told what was happening up near the elevators.**

 **Michael and Molly both looked up. “What? What is it, Em?”**

 **Putting a hand to his mouth, Emmett tried to work out how to handle the situation without causing too much blood shed... or disturbing Molly’s intentions toward Michael.**

 **Guilt was a good motivator. Emmett was feeling plenty. He had no idea what Molly had been planning. She had only informed him this morning. He had been so excited for Molly and Michael. Emmett knew there was a deep connection between them. Molly had asked her mother for her grandfather’s ring, intending to as for Michael’s hand in marriage.**

 **Emmett hadn’t intentionally wiped all other thoughts and important information out of his head. Too much was on his plate. The small family gathering had exploded into something least expected. Who knew Emmett had so many *friends*?**

 **When he had left Brian yesterday, Emmett had pretty much taken the non-answer as THE answer. So this was a little fact that had slipped his mind, but not before he’d informed Ted how wrong they had been about Brian Kinney.**

 **Apparently nothing could sway Ted’s mind about what exactly Brian was in the world. A hustler from the streets would always be a hustler from the streets... never able to redeem himself in Ted’s eyes. Or it could be the added bias that Molly was his nice, sweet cousin from Allentown, PA. Molly had always accepted Ted’s sexuality as a part of him. She was a good person and deserved a bit of happiness. Michael was Ted’s nearest, dearest friend, but who he’d had a crush on for a few years now. He didn’t see the harm in allowing Molly to occupy Michael’s time.**

 **Except Emmett knew that Ted had no idea that Molly’s feelings for Michael were going deeper then any of them thought. Ted didn’t know about the marriage proposal. If he did know, Emmett figured he wouldn’t be trying to *bitch* slap Brian up at the front of the loft.**

 **“You two stay here. I gotta go see about some rabid guests. Displeasure over the hors d’vourers, I guess.” Emmett patted both Michael and Molly’s shoulders reassuringly. “Continue on, you two lovebirds.” He pinched Michael’s chubby cheek as he whisked away to leave them in total confusion.**

 **By the time Emmett reached the elevator, one man was holding Brian against the wall, calm hand putting pressure on his chest. Two lesbians and a man were keeping Ted at bay from jumping all over Brian.**

 

 **~~TBC...**

  


	3. Chapter 3

“Take that back, Kinney!”

“It’s not my problem anymore, Teddy! I’m just passin’ the trouble on to you. But it’s the truth... no matter how much you want to deny it!”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry... that comment will cost you $250 an hour.” Brian was breathing slowly through his nose, finding a place where he could put his pride.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Emmett clapped his hands like he was dealing with two unruly children, but by the looks of things... Brian was fine. Ted looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel. “Am I gonna have to put you in your own corners for the rest of the night?”

Brian was relieved to see a friendly familiar face, even though he was ruining Emmett’s party. “Hi, Em.”

Emmett was shocked by the sound of Brian’s voice he sounded like he needed a gentle hug or a pat on the cheek. “Hey, Bri... I’m glad you made it. Can I get you a beverage or... something?” He wanted, so badly, to tell Brian how sorry he was. There was a sadness to Brian’s beautiful hazel eyes that conveyed that he *knew* that Michael would never be his. Any effort that Emmett had accomplished in putting Brian in Michael’s life was washed away in a single question. He couldn’t blame Brian for not wanting to stick around for the answer.

The crowd was dispersing. The man who held Brian went back to the bar. The man who had been holding Ted left, as well. The lesbians didn’t trust to leave Ted’s side. They remained like concentrated watchdogs. All Ted could do was sputter out a few sounds at how easily Emmett was just talking to Brian.

“I think your elevator’s broken... or I would have been long gone before any of... THIS happened.” Brian looked over at a stunned Ted. He had assumed Ted knew how friendly he and Emmett had gotten in under their ten minute conversation yesterday.

Emmett drew Brian under his arm, tucking him to his side. “No... I’m the one who should apologize. I was inviting you to a nice quiet dinner party for Michael... but friends talked to friends who began the chain and the thing got out of hand. But mostly... I’m sorry for the position I put you in. I didn’t know Molly’s intentions were serious.” Pulling Brian away from the elevator doors, Emmett walked them to the bar. “Ted isn’t even aware. She’s surprising everyone... even Michael.”

“What did he say?” Brian truly didn’t want to know.

“Last I left... she hadn’t even asked him, yet.”

“She seems like a good kid.”

Emmett let out a small grin. “She is... even being related to Teddy. She’s not as evil as him, though, but you’re right... she is a kid. Too young for Michael, I think.”

“Too straight for Michael, you mean?”

“Now, I wasn’t gonna go there, but when it all comes down to the nitty-gritty, Brian... Michael is the one who controls his life. I can’t make decisions for him.” Emmett signaled to the bartender for two beers and a phone.

“But, yet, you feel comfortable enough to make him jump some mighty obstacles.” Brian grabbed for one of the bottlenecks, taking a quenching sip.

“Someone’s got to keep him on his toes.” Emmett winked at Brian’s close, perfect perception. He dialed a number, with his thumb. While waiting for someone to pick up he looked Brian over, finally. “Damn! Honey... you look....” He picked at some imaginary lint in order to get his fill of touching Brian. “Hey, Carlos! Yeah, it’s Honeycutt! Hey, sweetie! How’s the missus? Good... I’m glad. Ooo, didn’t Harvey tell you? I’m havin’ a party up here. Of course, darlin’! No... unfortunately no one THAT famous. Look, could you do me a favor, por favor? The elevator’s on the skids again... would you mind...? God you are too good to me! Yeah, thanks!” He clicked off grabbing for his beer. “Man! With the rent I pay on this fuckin’ place you’d think they’d replace this ancient artifact.”

“The retro elevator goes with the charm of the building. Don’t change it. I can find you someone that might be able to fix your problem. Just give me a day to make some calls.”

“You’d do that for me? Even though I put you in possibly the most uncomfortable position... you’re a bigger man then me, Brian.”

“No... I just know when someone’s being REAL with me. I don’t make many friends in my line of work. They tend to get jealous or find something flawed in me that pisses them off. And I can safely say that I haven’t had a true *date* in a decade or so. I tried it, when I was first starting out, living on the streets, but I found it was more of a hassle then what it was worth. I wanted to sow my wild oats too badly. Plus my heart never got attached to anyone... so it wasn’t like I damaged myself. The men in my life... well, that’s where I have to cut the strings. Worrying about them would drive me to drink... much like my Pop used to do. That was a road I chose not to follow.”

Emmett reached up to push back a wisp of hair off of Brian’s forehead. “I know Michael has a good heart. It needs to be taken care of with the kindest precautions. I can’t tell him to be gay... he needs to come to that conclusion on his own. I love that man... like he’s my brother, but sometimes... he frustrates the HELL out of me.”

“Much like Ted?”

Emmett rolled his eyes, taking another swig of beer. “He’s a different ball of wax. Michael has to find his way, I can’t be there for him. I want to, so badly, but both you and I know, shaping and sculpting your life after your sexuality is hard to follow through on. Like everyone expects us to be *on* all the time. We have nothing but sex on the brain and we want nothing more then to have ALL men. People are gonna hate us, some are gonna want to watch us lay badly wounded at their feet and other s would like to see us six feet underground. Choosing this life... makes you constantly on edge to defend yourself. Unlike Ted and Michael, you and I know this is how we were born. Wasn’t something I woke up one morning, yawned, stretched and said... ‘Today... I think I’ll be gay!’. Nope... it is who we are... so, FUCK YOU, right?”

Brian couldn’t help but chuckle at Emmett’s comment. “Yeah, Em. That’s basically how I feel, too.”

A loud clang and bang sounded, followed by the noise of a working elevator.

Brian set down his beer bottle. “Wow! I’m impressed. Good service!”

Emmett made to wipe the corners of his mouth. “On both sides, Brian. Carlos really enjoys my... cooking.”

“I bet.” Brian walked over to circle around the bar to get what he had come with. No one had touched the items. “Before I leave, I wanted to give you these.”

Emmett put a hand to his chest in shock. “Flowers? For me?” He took the bundle in his grasp, looking down past the green paper. “Oh, sweetie. Miniature yellow roses and daisies. Gosh... I think I’m gonna cry.” He put a hand to his quivering mouth. He shook his head out of the fog, reaching for the wine bottle. Not able to help himself... Emmett read the label. His eyes bulged in bewilderment. “Christ, Kinney! What the fuck?! This shit is $1800 a bottle! People sell their vital organs for a case of these. How could you affor-...”

Brian blew off Emmett’s questions. “Someone gave it to me. Actually... I have more where that came from. My John... the men I’m with tend to find their gift giving leans more on the side of supplying me with the *finer* things in life. I’m really not a wine drinker. If you can use them, I’ll be happy to see them go to you.”

“You’re gonna just simply give them to me? You don’t want anything in leu of payment. If Michael’s taken... can’t make you change your mind about Teddy?”

Brian chuckled on his way to the elevator. Emmett followed with stars in his eyes. Right this minute Emmett wanted to do anything for him to show his thankfulness. “I don’t know if I like knowing how easily you can bargain for your friends. No... I’m sorry...” Brian gave a side glance to Ted who was still being closely watched by the Lesbians. “Ted’s a little high-strung for my tastes.”

“So...” Emmett hugged his flowers and the bottle in his arms. Brian had deserved more respect then what they had given him. “Would it be wrong of me to wish to see you again? I’d like to get to know you better. Without Ted there, of course.”

“What about Michael?” Brian tried to see if he could spot Michael anywhere.

“I have to trust Michael will know the right thing to do. Plus, this will give me a chance to make up for fuckin’ around with this invite.” Emmett was so saddened to see Brian leaving. He had hoped he could stay a little longer, but he understood his need to escape.

As he went through the steps to opening the elevator, Brian stood directly in front of Emmett, grabbed the sides of his head and kissed him fully on the mouth. “Don’t worry, Em. I have your card. I’ll be in contact with you. Thank you for... trying, at least.”

“Yeah, right! Whatever good that did you!” Emmett waved frantically as he watched Brian exit inside the slow moving elevator. His smile disappeared as he heard his name called behind him. He figured Ted might be trying to apologize for chasing away Brian.

“Em!” Michael jogged up to the front, panting at Emmett. “Was that who I thought it was?”

Emmett feigned confusion. “Who?”

“Don’t bullshit me. That was Brian, wasn’t it?” Michael went over to the gate to see if he could stop the movements. Like he wanted to follow after Brian.

Emmett looked at Michael’s hands plastered to the gate, banging on the surface. “Hold your horses, kiddo! They just got the damn thing working!” He couldn’t help feeling a renewed spark as he noticed Michael’s ring less fingers.

“But... I might lose him. I want to... I need to...” Michael turned around, leaning on the gate, trying to control his heart. “Help... me, Em. What do I do?”

“Do? About Brian? What do you need me to approve of?”

“Am I wrong about him? Do you think he’d be worth it?”

“Worth what?”

“Look I have this sinking feeling Mol’s about to ask me something I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to hurt her. I do love her, but not in that way. I can’t seem to find a way to break it to her.” Michael wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs.

“That’s life, bucko. We love who we love and then they break our hearts. Nothing you did made her fall in love with you... any more then what Brian...”

“What about Brian?” Michael’s interest peaked. “Did he say something to you?”

Emmett sighed heavily, knowing his mind was too jumbled to talk. He wanted to be sure to say the right thing, but still not influence Michael’s choices. “Let me just say... there’s more to Brian Kinney then any of us will be able to know. I’m not so sure he’s the most stable man to pick out of the bunch, but... shit! The man has such potential and he’s ready, willing and able. But I need you to be aware... he had other ideas about tonight. Just simply to get to know you better. I scared him. He found out about Molly and he’s... GOD! I know this sounds really weird, honey, but he’s heartbroken. He might be some glorified male hooker, but he’s got a beautiful soul... not to mention the man can fill out some leather pants like nobody’s business!”

Michael was able to calm down some. He moved to press the down button. “Thanks, Em. Was I right about Molly?”

“Don’t worry about her, Mike. Teddy and I will mend her ways. She assumed more then she could handle. It wasn’t right of her to think she could just step into your world at this moment. A moment when you’re questioning your own self. If she’s not willing to be patient, then she was never worth your time. Something tells me, through the tears and the heartache she’ll appreciate you more. You never led her astray, Mike. This wasn’t your fault. Molly has high ideals that no one will be able to fill. You’re just too damn lovable... and adorable...” Emmett pushed Michael away when he was coming at him to hug and kiss him all over. “Oh, Lord... is it my cologne or my bath soap... you gorgeous men just wanna piece of the Honeycutt that isn’t yours to have.” They helped each other work with the gate and doors. “Git your sweet ass in there, Novotny! Find yourself a man!”

“I love you, Em!” The doors shut and Emmett pulled the gate down. The windows showed Michael blowing kisses off his palm.

Tears were pooling in his eyes. “Love you, too... you little asshole.” He watched the box descend to the lower floor. He swivelled, facing Ted and his Lesbians. “Thank you, Kathy and Dana... but I got it covered. Have fun... and mingle....” They reluctantly walked away. “Now... you...”

Ted bowed his head in utter shame, knowing he was in for the punishment of his life. ****

 **** *************************************************** ****

**** Michael had never run faster in all his life. He nearly barreled into the doorman on his way out the front doors of the building.

“Anything I can help you with, Mr. Novotny?” The well-groomed, uniformed doorman walked out from around the circular front desk.

Michael was trying to catch his breath as he paused right before the double doors.”Tall man... dark, brown hair... mesmerizing hazel eyes... wearing a black leather jacket... has on animal print leather pants...”

“Oh, yeah... him... I told him I could call a taxi. That he could wait in here, since the rain picked up with that thunderstorm rolling in and all...plus I wouldn’t of minded the company. He shook his head ‘NO’... said he didn’t mind the rain. Thought he might catch himself a taxi on the way... a block down or so, while walking.” The doorman wanted to know that he had done the right thing.

“That’s great! Thank you so much!” Michael flashed his normal sparkling smile. “Wish me luck!” He winked and stepped out under the canopy of the front entrance.

“LUCK!” The doorman was consistently startled by the sweet qualities, the usual pleasantries of Mr. Novotny and Mr. Honeycutt. He really didn’t think about much else as he came back around to his post at the small desk. He let out a tiny grin as his eyes spotted the umbrella he would normally offer guests in this kind of a downpour. He should bring it out to Michael who appeared to be waiting right outside the door. His phone rang before he had made it completely around his desk.  
 **  
~*~  
** ****I liked the rain. Something soul cleansing about the cool droplets falling on heated skin. Most regular people tried to run from rain. I always walked with ease at every step, occasionally tilting my head back... maybe sticking my tongue out to catch the moistness.**

 **Once getting off the elevator, I had waved good bye to the door man who’d been on the phone at the time. He had covered the bottom speaker, offering to call me a cab since it was pouring heavily outside.**

 **I refused, though. I had to leave as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to stick around.**

 **I needed to distance myself. Lick my wounds... and mend my slowly breaking heart.**

 **Nearly two blocks, up from the loft building, I had found myself as I spotted an all too familiar dark green Toyota Tundra making it’s third pass on the main street.**

 **I tried to tuck my face inside my jacket collar as I squinted at it’s left turn down a one way side street. Another distraction came in the form of my ears picking up the sound of my name being called.**

 **Before I turned around, I noticed a cab, sitting idle between two parked cars in the next block in front of me. Ahhh... sweet, torturous safety...**

 **For a second, my mind began to mull over who would know me... much less my first name... in this part of The Pitts.**

 **There was only one I wanted... one I secretly craved... my sole purpose for being right here... right now... tonight...**

 **... MICHAEL...**** **  
~*~**

**** Michael stood in the middle of the sidewalk, rain falling down all over him... around him. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he tried again to catch Brian’s attention.

** “BRIAN!” **

This time... some sound clicked... the drenched mop of mahogany hair swiveled to face toward Michael’s direction. The features contorted into confusion... then unbelievable bewilderment... and finally changing into a smirk-laced, breathless word...

“Michael...”

Michael giggled, shrugging at the absurdity of the situation, gesturing to the perfect addition of the heavy downpour of rain... as if he was saying, “What more could happen... to us?”

Brian began to chuckle, which suddenly became a deep, hearty laugh... something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He motioned with a swift lift of his head for Michael to come to him.

Michael put a delicate hand to his heart, shyly asking. “Me?! You want little ole me?!”

Things looking how they did, Brian was assuming Michael hadn’t taken Molly’s proposal. How strange the relief he felt to his heart. As he stared at Michael for awhile, he realized how much this simple meeting of theirs was going to be a huge step for Michael. Using his left and right index fingers, Brian fingerpuppetted what was going to happen next. Left finger was Brian, right was Michael... they would walk the distance between, meet one another halfway across the block. ****

 **** Michael smiled, nodding in agreement as he moved to cross the first side street. He noticed Brian pause, look both ways and begin to walk across... when suddenly bright headlights barred him from continuing. He put up a hand to block out, unable to see what was in front of him. Slowly the dark green Toyota Tundra came into focus.

Someone was playing chicken with him. Gunning the engine in neutral. The black-tinted windows disguised who might be inside... but Brian had a good idea...

Uneasy confusion setting in, Michael picked up his pace... not sure whether he should begin to run, yet. A split second of fear had made him think to run back inside the loft building like a frightened scaredy cat. But it was a vision of Brian... possibly laying hurt and unprotected... that handsome face guarding the soul of an angel... somehow damaged beyond any control... that motivated Michael into standing his ground.

“Back up, Brian! Go! Now!”  
 **  
**“I can’t!” Brian had already tried that, causing the truck to advance forward another inch or two. No matter what he did or where he moved, Brian could not find a safe out. “Stay back, Michael! Don’t come any closer!” He shut his lids, cautiously stepping forward... one foot in front of the other... toward Michael. Brian knew he was taking a chance with his life... but he secretly hoped that someone above was watching, too. Please... God

“NO!” Michael screamed as loud as he could above the rain. He saw the oddly angled truck run up on the curb, catching Brian as he tried to cross onto the sidewalk. “No! No! No! No!”

Brian tucked and rolled his tight body heading underneath a parked car. He heard the quickened footsteps of Michael’s approach. “No! Stop right there, Michael! GO! AWAY! It’s not safe for you out here!”

Michael plopped down to the rough surface of the concrete, crawling on his belly to where he could see Brian. A hand stretched out to halt him in his slow process. Michael latched onto those scraped and bloodied strong fingers. “Too late. I’m not leaving you! Even now! They’ll just have to beat the shit out of me, too!” He felt the responsive tight grasp from Brian. “Do you need medical attention? Are you okay? Anything broken? How about the vital organs?” Michael could barely see Brian in the murky darkness under the car.  
 **  
**“I’ll probably need to visit the clinic...” Brian inhaled a sharp breath as he rolled onto his back, trying to gauge his condition. “Fuck!...” He was extra sensitive on his right side. “Just a few bumps and bruises.”

Michael tried to scoot further toward Brian’s voice. “I know the truck hit you... so don’t feel you have to pretend with me.” He glanced over his shoulder, up near the side street the truck had disappeared down. “They’re circling again. Do you know them?”

Brian suppressed a deep moan as his hand touched his throbbing right hip and thigh. “I see them... almost once a week, like clock work... teasing and taunting my kids... well, the homosexual young people I take care of... on the streets... Liberty Avenue to be exact. They drive around, late at night... but lately, things have picked up. These random violent acts are increasing in frequency. A few hit-n-runs... rocks thrown at heads... beer bottles thrown in faces... just stupid shit no one can really call people out for. But I know it’s them... that fuckin’ truck of theirs...”

“So... these vandals know you?”  
 **  
**“Yeah, but not very well. I’ve called the cops on them... but it didn’t take me long to learn a harsh lesson.”

“What’s that?” Michael had begun to crawl again, coming further under the automobile. He could almost lay his forehead on Brian’s chest.

“A dead fag is much easier to deal with then a live one, or a barely beaten one... especially when it comes down to our wonderful stellar police force.”

Michael was growing enraged for the tragedy... more for the way Brian had to live his life for this long... under such ridicule and oppression. Fighting his way to survive. “It’s our fuckin’ God given humane right to be protected and served like every other good tax paying citizen!”

Brian looked down at Michael’s passionate chocolate brown eyes. He used the hand Michael held to caress the side of Michael’s face. “Mikey...”

“What?!” Michael was shaken out of his emotion by the nickname he had sworn he had always heard in his head.

“Did you just hear yourself?”

“Wha-? What did I say?” ****

 **** “OUR... right.” Brian swallowed quickly. “Emmett had informed me of your dilemma. That you’ve been on the fence about your sexuality... not sure you would want to come out... but that comment surely told me that this might be your official coming out... am I right?”

Michael smirked slightly. “My mother always said I could never do anything, life-altering in my pathetic world, without adding a much needed... B-A-N-G!”

“Sounds like a really cool mom. I’m glad you had someone like her for support.”

“Often she gets on my nerves more then anyone else’s parent that I know... but then she does, or says, something that knocks me off my keister... and I fall in love all over again.” Michael pulled Brian’s hand to his lips, kissing the back and leaning his cheek on it. “I think the coast is clear. Stay here, just in case. I’m gonna get us a car... so we can get you to a real hospital. No free city clinic for you, Kinney.” Michael saw the displeasure on Brian’s face. “Shut up! It’s time for someone to take care of you, for once, Brian. I don’t care what kind of reputation has kept you from seeking good medical attention... but this time... I am taking you to an emergency room.” He was backing up, crawling from under the car, when they both heard the slamming of car doors in the distance.

Brian’s eyes widened in shock. THEY were back. He could see the dark green truck. “Mich-...”

The last thing Brian saw was Michael’s small smile and the finger to his lips. “Ssshhh....”

“Where did those fags go?” A grumbling voice yelled through the continual downpour.

Michael stood to his average height. “Look, guys... here’s one... right here!”

“GET HIM!” ****

 **** Brian could only see the trio of extra legs on the sidewalk as they slowly approached Michael. “Now... gentleman... do we really need to use violence to make our points. Why not write our Congressman and ask for a change in the law books... or rally a group of your fine patriotic pals together... see you already have a cool flag you can glue on a poster board and march on the steps of Washington... or, HEY... how about a letter writing campaign... no, wait... that might require some talents you boys might have failed at in school, so let’s just scrap that idea...”

“Is this asshole for real?” A high-pitched voice inquired.

“You do realize we’re here to kick your faggot ass back to Liberty Avenue? So why don’t you shut up!”

Michael crossed his arms, not knowing why he wasn’t really scared of facing these young men. “How do you know Liberty Avenue is full of the Gays... wait! I think I have seen one or two of you boys there... tryin’ to get your rocks off. What... so, it’s okay for YOU to suck dick, or get jacked off down some dirty dank alley... taking it up the ass on the off season... running around like a pansy-assed hypocritical loser... playing off that you didn’t like it at all... when you know you crave it... late at night... but we just wanna fuckin’ live in a house and you wanna be the Big Bad Wolves who come blowin’ our shit down?”

“I SAID... SHUT THE FUCK UP!”  
 **  
**Brian shut his eyes not believing what he was hearing. “What are you doing, Michael?” He whispered under his breath as he waited for a sound of the young mens’ next move.

“What are you doing, Hobbs?!” One of the young men screamed as Michael was yanked to the ground by the thick chord of sailing rope around his neck.

Hobbs handed the bunched end to his friend. “Tie it to the trailer hitch, man!”

“You are fuckin’ nuts, Chris!” The third voice interceded as he tried to loosen the rope suffocating Michael.

“Step off, Landry! If you don’t want any of this... just walk away!”

“It was supposed to be some harmless fun, Hobbs.”

“Fuckin’ A! You have gone seriously mental.” The rope was loosened and thrown at Hobbs’ feet. “You tie it to the fuckin’ hitch... bitch!”

Michael tried to catch his next breath, in spurts of gagging air. ****

 **** Brian quietly rolled, squinting at the pain, and limped around the car to head over to the truck.

There was a large metal bin of old building materials off on the edge of the side street. He found himself a good solid 4x4... and just began wailing on the surface of the truck.

“I’m a faggot!” Brian dented the right rear tire area. “I’m a queer!” He smashed his first window. He limped over to the hood. “I’m an ass muncher!” He knocked off the right side view mirror. “I’m a prick!” Then came the dent in the hood. ****

 **** Chris Hobbs forgot Michael laying, lynched around the neck, as his two friends flanked his sides. “OH... You must wanna fuckin’ die... Kinney!”

Brian was sparked into further action. So this WAS personal!. “I’m a butt licker!” The first headlight on the right was busted. “I’m a dick sucker!” He took out the second headlight

Distant lights began to turn on as people came to their windows. The cab driver who was asleep in his idle taxi came out to see what the noise was about.

“Hey! What’s going on here!?” The man came around to the middle of the main street to view what was happening. He backed off, slightly when he noticed Brian’s bloodied and dirty body, limping around.

Brian was tired of swinging the heavy, bulky slab of wood, so he drug it behind him. “But worst of all... boys... I’m a pissed off gay man whose boyfriend you just nearly strangled... not to mention the little mishap of trying to run my ass over. You wanna pick on homos... Chris... Hobbs... you’ll have to KILL me first!” Brian’s eyes were trained on Michael, who still lay struggling for air, but was attempting to get up, in the distance.

Chris ran straight for Brian, prepared to attack. ****

 **** Brian had enough strength left to turn just as Chris whiffed on by and swung the 4x4 around for the last time. He caught the young man in the center of his back, but something odd occurred... as Chris moved to fall face forward... he pulled Brian off balance. The board had stuck to Chris.

To Brian’s surprise, as he let go of the board, there had been two thick nails buried in the wood, still sticking out... that were now embedded in Chris’s left shoulder blade. The inner strength Brian had used to pick up the wood had forcefully drawn the nails deeply into the bone underneath the skin.

Chris was screaming like a pussy... in pain...

His friend’s ran over, avoiding Brian’s personal space as they passed by each other.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me! You motherfuckers!” Chris continued to lay, nearly buried in the drain gutter, his face on the sloped curb. “Look at what the faggot did to my truck!”

The two friends turned to look at each other, sort of shocked that Chris could still care about homosexuals at this time of searing pain. They had to stand, in the rain, to wait for the ambulance... and the cops, because Chris had the keys, in his pockets and they weren’t about ready to touch him... probably ever again... ****

 **** *********************************************** ****

**** Michael stood, on the sidewalk, tugging off the thick rope that had been around his neck, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it like an attacking snake. “Fuckin’... piece of... shit!”

He let the tears flow as he pretending like Chris Hobbs was under his shoe. He fell to his knees, almost upchucking on the street. ****

 **** Brian ran as best he could with his bad limp to Michael’s side. “Let it out! It’s alright, Mikey!” He brushed back the soft raven black hair to wipe away the sweat. “You’re okay. A bit traumatized, but... you’re alive.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to Michael’s temple, as he tried to pull Michael’s wracking frame into his arms. “Ssshhh... Everything’s fine. You did good... a bit wild and crazy, but I liked that.” Michael sniffled out a chuckle against Brian’s jacket.

Michael’s shaking arms wrapped around Brian’s waist as he tucked his face under Brian’s chin. “I don’t... have a... cruel... bone... in my... body...” He could barely talk, sounded gargled and whispery. “But, I’d like...” Michael tried to clear his throat. “... to see that board... in his fuckin’ head!”

“You and me, both!” Brian had to laugh, wondering how Michael could still find humor in such a disaster. Brian sat down on the sidewalk, his right leg going out from under him. He cradled Michael in his arms. “I’m staying right here... with you. I have a feeling a few people might have made a phone call, or two.” ****

 **** Michael liked sitting in Brian’s lap. “Think we may get these charges to stick?”

Brian tried to look at Michael’s neck. “It’s starting to bruise... “ He lifted Michael’s eye lids to look over his eyes. “There’s few bursts of blood in your whites... that’s common, in strangulation...” As if finally being able to allow what had happened... and what could have happened... sink in, Brian began to hold and rock Michael in his arms.

“Awww... Shit! Bri... don’t crumble on me now...” Michael whispered out, pulling Brian’s face to his lips and kissing away those solid tears falling. “I’m alright... just like you said... see...” He took Brian’s hand to come up and under his thin t-shirt. “Heart’s still beating.”

“Strong... but so...” Brian stared in utter amazement up at Michael’s dear sweet face.

“Goofy?” ****

 **** Brian shook his head. “Loving... and you’re pretty fuckin’ funny... I want to cry my eyes out... something I haven’t done in decades, beat the shit out of someone, which I’ve tried staying away from... but those words you said to those goons... about what they could do instead of beatin’ your ass... was fuckin’ brilliant. They didn’t even know you were making fun of them... how did you do it with a straight face?”

Michael looked down at Brian’s smeared, bloody and bruised gorgeous features... still managing to look beautiful with the most flawless white smile. He brushed the back of his knuckles on Brian’s clean cheek. “I thought about you. What you’ve had to go through. I channeled my Inner Rage.” He turned his head slightly to the side. “Rage? Why does that sound so familiar to me?”

Brian shrugged, leaning back on the sidewalk, his palms on the concrete. “Sounds like a good comic book hero to me...”

Michael glanced at Brian from the side of his eyes. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Easy on the mouth.” ****

 **** “Oh... I thought... maybe... never mind.” ****

**** Brian jostled Michael in his lap. “Come on! Don’t be afraid to talk to me now. Spit it out!”

“Do you know what I do for a living?”

“Uh... nope. Emmett only went so far... once I got the seal of approval.”

“I write a comic strip. For a few well known papers... but my big dream is to have my own comic book. I’ve had offers to collage my strips into book form, but... right now, this is just a job. Gives me a paycheck to live off of.” Michael found himself comfortable enough to lean on Brian. “My heart hasn’t been in my work these last few months.”

Brian pushed his mouth against Michael’s rounded shoulder. “What’s holding you back... do you think?”

Michael felt the tickle of the vibrations of Brian’s mouth on his skin. It gave him comfort. “Low self-esteem. A HUGE problem of mine. What about you?”

“What about me?” **  
**  
“Was this who you wanted to be when you were a child?”

Brian smirked at the absurd question. “I never had a childhood.” He realized his life was seriously too maudlin for normal conversation. “Like you... I’m stuck in a rut. I could get out, if I wanted to, but there’s too many people who depend on me now. I’m not the type of person to break my loyalty.”

Michael nodded his head, in complete understanding. “I live in this pretty loft, with Em, but I also help my Ma pay her mortgage. There’s things I pay for to help her out when she’s having a slow week. She works on Liberty Avenue.” Michael suddenly had a strange thought. “You might know her. Ever go to Liberty Diner?”

Brian snickered. “Your kiddin’ me, right? Who the fuck lives on Liberty Avenue and doesn’t know the Diner? Divine Lady Deb and her weird, willful, wacky ways.” He shook his head at the memory of that red-headed freak of nature.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s my mom.” He was prepared for a look of shock or some startled expression of words, but he didn’t expect Brian to be unable to look him in the eye. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

Brian began to slowly chuckle, lost in his own head. Those long months of Deb trying to fix Michael and Brian up... little did she fuckin’ know. He couldn’t stop laughing, but he knew he was bewildering Michael. “I’ll tell you about it later. Looks like company’s coming over.” Brian gestured his head over to the right. **  
**  
Two paramedics were charging over with a gurney and their emergency kits. “Are either of you hurt? How can we help you both?”

Michael hefted himself off of Brian, hanging onto his hand. “I’m fine... but Brian.... my boyfriend... needs attention.” He petted the soft skin as he watched the Technicians unlock the stretcher and lift Brian in place. “Can I ride with you guys?” ****

 **** “Sure...” One paramedic paused, kind of startled by the smiling face with the bruised neck. They caught sight of the tangled rope on the sidewalk.

“Michael.” Michael kissed Brian’s hand in comfort.

“We’ll take you to Pittsburgh General Emergency. That’s about a 15 minute ride, if we make all the lights... and the rain let’s up.” They had been informed early what they were coming in on, so they didn’t need to know too much of the specifics. They had expected to find two lifeless bodies... or at least close to Death’s door. They were pleased to be wrong. Made for a good night, despite the tragedy of it all. ****

 **~*~  
** ****I was tryin’ to shut my mind down. The pain was excruciating, but I’d been so used to hiding behind certain facades that I didn’t know when to shut them down. Not that I wanted to appear like some wuss in front of Michael, but that I didn’t want him to think I was unable to make it through what we had survived tonight.**

 **I had seen it all too often. The laughter, the finger pointing, the inside jokes, getting spit upon, getting the shit kicked out of you... the blatant hatred just thrown in your face. Sometimes causing the person to become physical. I lay back on the Emergency Room stretcher, one hand clinging to the side rail as I tried to situate my body.**

 **A hematoma. A severe bruising at the subdural level of my right hip. No broken bones, just knocked my hip joint out of it’s socket and the area where the truck clocked me had a series of broken blood vessels. I lay calmly with my arm over my face, trying to block out the bright lights.**

 **I had figured they were keeping Michael or had sent him on his merry way. If I had been him, I would have beat a direct path to home. I heard murmuring voice beyond the pulled curtain. I kept my eyes closed to compose my erratic heartbeats. I wanted, very badly, to ask Michael to stay... so that maybe we could carry on what had been started when it looked like he planned to run after me.**

 **I had no right to ask him for anything. I had brought this upon us both. I hated when my pride got the better of me and hurt others in the process. The curtain was yanked open and I had thought that maybe another nurse, or an ER technician, was coming in to check up on me. I didn’t want them messing around with me anymore. I could barely move without wincing from the searing pain. I tried to feign sleep.**

 **I was wrong though, because I surely didn’t let any of my friends touch me the way these hands were... and I never let the Johns caress my fevered skin the way these fingers were...**

 **Damn... my wish had been granted. Michael hadn’t left me at all.**

 **I felt like crying.**** **  
~*~**

**** “Brian?” Michael reached out a hand to brush back the wispy matted locks from Brian’s forehead. The strips of gauze and paper tape covering his nicks and scrapes were the only things that marred his beautiful flawless features. “Brian? Are you awake?”

Brian slowly opened his hazel eyes, penetrating their gaze directly on Michael’s sweet face. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “What are you still doing here? Why haven’t they taken care of you?”

Bending down to nearly lay his head right next to Brian’s on his wimpy pillow, Michael smiled as he grabbed for Brian’s right hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the scraped knuckles. “I’m fine. There wasn’t much else they could do for me. A few x-rays and a neurological consult to make sure this noggin was on right... but they don’t think they need to keep me overnight. I hear... you on the other hand might need to stay for a couple of days.”

Brian turned his face to tuck his cheek under Michael’s slight stubble. Like he was about to whisper the most important secret ever. “I’m not staying.”

Michael pulled back his head in shock. “Brian... why not?”

“First thing... this little emergency room visit is costing a small fortune. Second... the more I stay here the less chance I have of... uh... well, let’s just say this time away is costing me more money then I can afford.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever take a vacation, or at least allot yourself a few days off?”

Brian shook his head on the pillow. “Nah, the less I work, the more the bills pile up. I barely get by on what I have.”

Without letting Brian’s hand go, Michael maneuvered a chair over to the side of the bed. He took a seat as he continued to converse with Brian. “And what’s the third?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s always a prepared third item in any list. But I’m gonna take a wild guess on this one... it has something to do with me.”

Brian tried to avoid looking at Michael as he stared up at the pale, boring ceiling tiles. “I can’t think about you right now. I’m sorry, but it’s the way it has to be.” He was trying to slip his hand out of Michael’s.

“Bullshit!” Michael held on tighter to Brian, nearly yanking him across the mattress pad.

“Excuse me?!” Brian turned to stare wide-eyed at Michael.

“I’m scaring you.”

“What?!”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that I might just be the first person you’ve ever let get this close to you... and it’s scaring you.” Michael couldn’t help but feel proud about his keen perception.

“If you’ll allow me to speak for myself, instead of jumping to these wild, crazy conclusions I will tell you what the third item of my list is...”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Do it!”

“I will!”

“I’m listening!”

“Don’t push me!”

“You’re stalling!”

“No... I’m not!”

“Yes... you are!”

“Stop!” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent a headache. “Is this the way every argument will be with you?”

Michael actually listened to how that question was worded. There was a semi-future theme to the words, but he didn’t want to bring it to Brian’s attention. At least, not yet. “I’m sorry, Brian. I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“Like I was saying... the third item is... I don’t want to ever feel I owe somebody. Especially the way in which this night has gone. I wanted a better starting point... for us... but I should know that if I ever have good intentions in my heart and I plan things all too efficiently... something, or someone, is bound to screw things up. Like clockwork.” Brian sighed heavily as he closed his eyes feeling the draw of his pain medication.

“I have absolutely no idea what you could be talking about. I try to meet every guy like this. It’s not every date you can say... ‘...and then the ambulance drove us to the emergency room.’ I like it. Gives the story some much needed *punch*. It would be so boring otherwise.”

“Michael...” Brian began to chuckle, his arm coming up to encircle his ribs and abdomen. “Don’t make me laugh. The pain meds haven’t taken effect.”

Michael tentatively reached out to touch Brian’s chest, moving down to feel the added layers of gauze and something similar to an ace bandage. “What’s this?” He tenderly caressed the area above the hospital gown.

Brian looked down at Michael’s pale hand rubbing over his belly. “An abdominal binder. So my guts don’t fall out.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Barely. And it really hurts when I laugh.” Which Brian proceeded to do even with his comment.

Michael reached up to smooth the scowl lines on Brian’s forehead. “I see that’s a habit that won’t be easily curbed.”

“And that’s weird, because I haven’t laughed this much in all my life.” Brian reached up to smooth the back of his hand down Michael’s cheek. “Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Michael smirked as he stood to move the right side rail down so he could climb in beside Brian.

“What the fuck are you doing, Michael?!” ****

** ~~TBC... ** **   
**


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t know what it is... with you... and me... but I can’t stop this feeling inside of me needing to touch you... especially when you say shit like that.” Michael lifted his head to actually soak in what he just said, followed by the action he just took. “I’m not sure that this is a good thing that I am officially telling you that it doesn’t take much to get me in bed.” He scooted about to lay on his side, matching Brian’s body alignment.

“Someone might come in, Michael.” Brian whispered as he gulped his next breath at the longing he felt in his body. When was the last time he felt this craving to just *be* with another human being? The men who came to his bed generally wanted to cuddle or remain in some kind of contact with him, but that was another rule of Brian’s that he lived by... HE controlled the touching. There was never any late night snuggle or cuddle under the sheets. Brian gave them his body and allowed them to find pleasure in their releases, but usually by the end... either he was out of the bed on his way out the door or the Johns were sound asleep as Brian snuck out. The transfer of money had been handled earlier before the sexual acts.

Michael shrugged his shoulder. “Somehow... the way this night has begun... for us... I could care less what everyone else thinks.” He crooked his arms to rest his head on as he reached out a hand to touch Brian’s features. The tips of his fingers traced along the scalp line, down the frowning forehead and around the wide, mesmerizing hazel orbs that blinked slowly at him. “I like you Brian Kinney... despite what you do for a living. Actions speak louder then words for me. If you were as heartless, as most claim of you, then I would be laying in the gutter... out in the rain... one less dead fag to deal with... huh?”

Brian put up a hand to shut Michael up. “Don’t call yourself that. I just... I want you to know that this lifestyle choice is NOT always going to be like this. There is more bad, then good... but when it’s good... it’s fuckin’ great.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh... yeah.” Brian moved his head around the pillow so he could look directly at Michael. “What’s even better is... finding that someone who truly knows you... flaws and fallacies... and still manages to want to be around you.”

“You know what amazes me?” Michael cleared his throat shuffling closer to Brian under the thin hospital linens.

“No... what?” Brian had to prevent his voice from sounding too eager to learn everything he could about Michael Novotny.

“Your fuckin’ romantic optimism. For your line of work... I would assume that this would be a part of you that you don’t show many men.”

“And what would that be?”

“Your heart... Brian. I think many who think they know you pretty much assume that you don’t have one.”

Brian found he couldn’t look away from Michael’s darkening chocolate eyes. Something was brewing inside of this tight little package of male flesh. Brian became breathless at the wonder of probably being Michael’s *first* for everything. “You’d be right.” His hand reached out to cup Michael’s cheek as the pudgy face seemed to fall in to his mere touch, begging for more. The tip of his thumb came out to caress along the pink flesh of Michael’s open mouth, finding the puffiness stimulating. “I want to kiss you... so very bad.... Michael Novotny.”

“And why don’t you, Brian Kinney?” Michael ebony eyebrow rose in question as he pushed his face closer to Brian’s.

“Because... when *it* happens for us... it’s not gonna be some quick suck on some hospital stretcher after we’ve had the shit kicked out of us...” Brian drew Michael up his body so their lips were only a few inches apart. He inhaled the sweet scent of Michael, enjoying the feel of the small muscular body laying over him... fitting him perfectly. “And *it* won’t happen in the car on the way to driving me home... and *it* won’t happen while I’m on pain killers and so doped up and wrapped up tighter then a candy cane at Christmas... I want *it* to be right... for you... for...”

“... us.” Michael let his forehead fall on to Brian’s. Their eyes closed at the same time, reopening to share a *look*. Their mouths opened, parted, letting out the same breath... mingling as one. Their noses slanted and touched, tip to tip. “You are one sexy man, Kinney. I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait that long.”

“Patience is a good virtue, Mikey.” Brian grinned slightly as Michael sighed deeply, wanting to tuck his head under Brian’s chin. He found his lips moved over Michael’s earlobe, up to his left temple as Michael curled into a ball on Brian’s chest. He could see the slight discoloration around Michael’s neck, where the sailing rope had wrapped around. Brian allowed his fingers to trail over the line, wishing he could erase the frightening reminder.

“Are they ever coming back to check on you?” Michael chuckled, rubbing a hand over Brian’s tightly bounded chest and abdomen.

Brian let out a deep belly laugh letting his hand brush through Michael’s raven locks. “Yeah... I wish I was already gone, but the Orthopedic surgeon wants to put me in some leg contraption. Things supposed to keep my leg immobile... allow the hip joint to rest...”

“Christ! I got my own Bionic Man!” Michael laughed at the image of every piece of Brian being replaced by some gadgetry. “Well... now it’s definitely official.” Michael lifted his torso up, patting Brian’s upper chest.

“What is?!” Brian was curious to the blatant comment.

“You... Brian... are coming home with me!” Michael climbed down off the stretcher, plopping to the floor as he watched the two ER Techs walking with a leg brace for Brian. “Finally! We didn’t think you boys would ever show up! Okay... what exactly needs to be done. I can hold Mr. Kinney down, but I can’t promise he won’t belt out a swear word or two.”

The tall red-head ER Tech smiled impishly. “We’re fairly new at this too, but the Ortho Doc is going to allow us to do this by ourselves.”

“Great!” Brian moaned and rolled his head to avoid looking at them both.

“Either of you going to specialize in orthopedics when your interning is over?”

The red head shook his head. “I’m thinking of pediatrics.”

The second ER Tech, a big, hulking galoot of a young man, smiled as he took the plastic off the new leg brace. “Plastic surgery. I’m gonna join my uncle’s practice.”

Michael tallied the choices in his head, then moved to stand at the head of Brian’s stretcher. He pulled up Brian’s arms to intertwine with his own. “Okay, then...Richie Cunningham..." That’s who the red head reminded Michael of... “And you... Gargantua...” Michael tried to remember a good Pro-Wrestling name he could use. “I got him on this end.” He looked down at Brian gazing up at him. “Please, don’t hate me for this later. You can bite the fleshy part of my arm if you need to.” Michael nodded to *Richie*. “You pretend Mr. Kinney’s an eight-year-old boy who’s fallen off his skate board, trying to impress his friends... and you...” Michael turned to think of what to say to the Big Guy. “... your girlfriend... is right outside and she says she’ll get that breast enlargement and liposuction done, as a birthday present to you, if you help out her eight-year-old nephew that she just brought into the ER... okay... now... GO!”

There was so much laughter in the room people who walked by the pulled curtains wondered when the *party* had started... and why hadn’t they been invited. ****

 **~*~  
** ****I felt like I could easily fall in love with Michael if I didn’t keep a shield over my heart. Something had changed us both during that night... in the rainstorm.**

 **Michael had fully come out as a homosexual... and I suddenly was questioning the life I had been leading as every man’s sex object. Suddenly, I wanted to be only ONE man’s partner.**

 **In the light of day, Emmett and Michael’s loft is breathtaking. It nearly takes up the entire floor of the building. Right now, I’m laying on the fold-out futon couch in their second living room. Yeah... so fuckin’ big it has TWO living rooms. Well, one Emmett calls the sitting room, but I see some couches and chairs that make it look like my own living room... so I’m taking his information with a grain of salt.**

 **I like where I’m situated. I have a perfect view of Michael’s private bath. I look like I’m asleep, but I’m actually watching him... practically salivating as he completes his morning ritual as if I wasn’t even there. I don’t mind being ignored, if this was what I could look forward to... staring openly at him every morning.**

 **He’s just showered, shaving just enough beard to look presentable. He’s dressed in light tan khakis and a soft, blue cotton button-down shirt. He looks like a man going on an interview. Michael’s finishing up styling his hair... just so. I admit I like the bed head look, more then a perfectly combed head, but you have to allow people their quirks.**

 **Shit, if I don’t say something soon. I think he’ll actually believe I am asleep and I won’t get my usual goodbye...**

 **I like it best with the soft kisses.****   
~*~ 

Brian cleared his throat and moved about on the stiff mattress of the futon. “Morning, Michael.”

Michael walked out of his bathroom, fixing his cuffs and grinning quite easily. “Hey, beautiful. How was last night?”

“So! Boh-ring! Emmett practically talked my ear off, but I must admit to working on him... quite easily, for information about you.”

Michael made some odd cornball face as he heard that last comment. “Why, Mr. Kinney... is there something about me that you just can’t ask me to my face?” He stepped up to the edge of the futon mattress. His eyes were taunting Brian from the short distance.

Brian took the challenge, pushing his torso up from the mountain of cushions behind him, that propped him up. Scooting his butt along the sheets, Brian found he could maneuver a way to come closer to Michael, except his right leg stuck out like a crutch, unbending in the leg brace.

Cracking himself up, Michael looked about him as Brian managed to mosey up to a sitting position. Brian’s hands were on his waist, brushing at the even pleats on the front of his nice trousers. “Hands off, Kinney. Warning... Danger Zone.’

“I’m returning the favor.”

“What favor?”

“These last few days you’ve been coming to me. I only thought it fair, since Emmett’s been helping me with my physical therapy... that I show you how much I’ve progressed. A little gift to send you off this fine morning.” Brian took his fill of holding Michael, *just so* in his hands, looking over his neat attire. He smelled so outdoorsy, like a sandalwood scent. It was getting addictive. Brian held out his hands, pushing Michael a slight distance. “Help me up.” He wiggled his fingers toward Michael.

Michael laughed shaking his head. “You are too cute, Mr. Kinney. You don’t have to stand for me.” His hand reached out to cup Brian’s prominent square jaw in his palm. “I can kiss you fine at this level.”

Brian put up a hand to stop Michael’s mouth from its pursuit. “I wanna do this right. And I want it to be from me... to you... not the way it’s been these last two days. Pain meds are fine, but I don’t recommend you begin a relationship on them.”

Michael cocked a dark brow. “Wow! This is an actual *relationship*. I’m siked. Should I be jotting down all the little nuances... so we can keep track of all the anniversaries?” He soon learned he better lift Brian in order to get his *Good Morning* kiss. “The first time we got beat by some homo-hating fags... the first time I sat in an ambulance with you... the first time I allowed two straight guys to manhandle you in order to put on the leg brace...” Michael was on a roll with his hilarity and didn’t see the swoop of Brian taking him in his arms. Their lips met in a splendid blending of anticipated bliss. Michael’s arms were unable to grip onto anything but thin air as Brian dipped his prized possession in his arms.

Brian tried to keep their mouths in line but the shock value, alone, on Michael’s features... made Brian chuckle. “Sorry... did anyone ever tell you how adorably enticing you are? Your mouth kept moving... those thick... luscious ridges just continued to move... and I felt compelled to stop them continuing their torture. Forgive me?”

Michael hung onto Brian’s shoulders, finding it odd that Brian still had such strength left in his whip chord body. Despite all the damage done against him, Brian was healing very well. “Uh... yeah, forgiveness is granted. Is there anything else... you feel compelled to... force into submission? I’m game if you are?”

Brian quickly stood Michael to his actual height. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Michael stared at Brian’s shocked features in bewilderment. “Didn’t you mean... well, really... the kiss... I thought...?”

Brian moved backwards to plop back on the mattress, his leg sticking out to hit Michael’s knees. “Ow! Shit! I’m sorry!” The minor brushing of their body parts caused a slight jolt of pain to shoot up Brian’s hip. His hands went to cover his flushed face. “Christ!”

“Oh... okay...” Michael turned to leave, striding away as he headed to finish up getting dressed. He felt hurt and oddly weirded out by Brian’s reaction. Something wasn’t right in the translation. Michael would need to leave for few hours to figure what he could have said wrong.

Brian was removing his hands when he finally spoke up. “No... wait... Michael... I didn’t...”

Too late. Michael had grabbed the elevator as soon as he could. Brian heard its loud descent to the first floor. He plopped backward to hit the mattress, bouncing slightly. How could he have hurt Michael like that? Just allow him to leave without explaining what he had meant after his blatantly sexual comment. He lifted his torso up to situate his body back into the crevice formed in the center of the futon bed.. His arms went up and over his eyes, wondering why his brain and dick never bothered to talk to each other before one of them allowed him to speak. This time, though, Brian thought his heart snuck a word or two in.

~*~  
 ****I don’t know why I say the things I do. And I don’t know why my actions usually make things worse. I generally am a quicker speaker when it comes to moments like these. If I have to explain why something has to happen this way, or that.**

 **I could blame it on the meds... I could blame it on the underlying pain, but in reality... it had been Michael. His ease at accepting me into his life... his world... and his home, made me wonder if his heart was soon to follow.**

 **I heard the unmistakable noise of the elevator returning to the floor. I had only thought that Emmett was either coming back or maybe one of the other tenants had pressed for a ride.**

 **I never heard the jangle of keys. I never heard the arrival of the elevator. I never even felt the presence of another person’s body until it was nearly laying right on top of me.**

 **I looked from under my arm to see... Michael... smiling down at me.****   
~*~ 

“What are you...?” Brian tried to push himself up on his torso, but Michael’s gentle hand to his chest kept him back.

“I got halfway out the door... when I finally figured it out.” Michael found himself being brave enough to straddle the area of Brian’s hips.

“Would you like to share with the class?” Okay, if Brian couldn’t do anything but lay on his back, he decided it was safe to wrap his arms around Michael’s waist, holding him down to his groin.

Feeling brave, for once, Michael walked his hands up the sides of Brian’s body on the bed, until their faces were in line. “You are afraid.”

“Of?”

“Sex.”

Brian laughed looking off into the distance. “I beg to differ with you there, Little Mikey. My entire world revolves around sex... of all shapes, types, sizes and kinds. Mind tellin’ me how you came up with this brilliant theory?”

Michael smirked, squirming his body on Brian’s pelvis, sure not to hurt him. “You’re afraid of sex with me. Afraid that I’d think something less of you because of who you are. Plus, I’m not *buying* your services... for anything, Brian. I feel like this.... whatever is happening between us... it’s natural. Like it was meant to be. Pieces of a puzzle falling together.”

Brian stared intently at Michael. “I don’t want... I don’t want you to have too many expectations of me and me not live up to any of them. I want this *first time* for you to be... what you’ve always dreamed about.”

“I don’t scare that easy, Kinney.” Michael pressed his forehead into Brian’s right cheek, playful and sexy.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Novotny.” Brian whispered the words as he closed his eyes to the sensations Michael was stirring in him. “Don’t make me into something I’m not... and never wanted to be.”

Brian was just about to kiss Michael again when he avoided Brian’s lips, by preventing him from advancing. “And don’t handle me with kid gloves. I won’t break if you’ll be honest with me. Tell me what you’re thinking. Takes two to fuck-up a relationship, Brian. I’d hate for us to miss out on all the fun.”

At that very moment, Brian felt the last piece of his ice-cold heart breaking off, melting into oblivion. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He tapped a finger on Michael’s watch

Michael shrugged. “Yeah... but you were more important.” At the widening of Brian’s eyes, Michael dropped a long peck on those delectable lips of his. He let go, rubbing his face over Brian’s soft facial skin. “I’ll be home... sometime this afternoon. How about I bring us lunch?”

Brian couldn’t find his voice as he simply nodded his reply. Some foreign emotion wanted to invade his head, right at Michael’s words. Like tears weren’t too far from falling. He reluctantly allowed Michael to slip from his grip as he watched him exit the loft again.

This time the ache was much worse.

~*~  
 ****I didn’t think it was possible.**

 **That I could pursue a guy... and discover that he was so much more then what I had thought I could want in a man.**

 **I thought it would be easy to conquer him. Easy to have my way and be done... move on.**

 **The longer I remained in his presence... the more I fell in love.**

 **Honest... to true... knees on ground... pray to God... falling in love.**

 **Lust was easier. Lust was different. Lust could carry me through a bad experience and pay me well off on the other end. Make it worth its trouble.**

 **Love? Love was the one rule I had never created for myself. I never though there would come a day when I could find the man of my dreams in my line of work.**

 **Damn! This... was worse then I thought...****   
~*~ 

It was nearing two o’clock in the early morning hours. Michael couldn’t pretend sleep anymore, in his own bed. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes shut. His fragile mind in constant thought over the man he’d been staring at the past fifteen minutes.

Lately, Michael had decided to take *baby steps*. He didn’t want to scare Brian away. Any movement to say or do anything permanent was ignored, left forgotten.

Today was going to be the ultimate test. Lunch with Uncle Vic and Auggie. Vic was the closest person to a father Michael had. He respected any advice Vic had to give, always listening to the experienced ideas. Auggie was already smitten with Brian, but Uncle Vic was a slightly harder man to impress.

Brian’s long encompassing leg brace was gone. All that remained was a knee wrap around the traumatized joint. Brian was used to sleeping on his back, leg propped on pillows, that it soon became his favorite position. He was surrounded by a mound of softness, cushioning his lethal body.

From the wicker chair, Michael grew brave, climbing onto the futon mattress. All those nights before, of watching Brian sleep, became a *thing* of the past. It was time to push forward and act on his frenzied impulses. He wanted a closer look at Brian, possibly be able to touch, caress, him. He’d been wanting to do this for quite a long time. Laying on his side, Michael crooked his arm, resting his head on his flat palm. He took a few minutes to soak up every inch of Brian’s peacefully drowsing features.

**********************************************

Brian had felt the jarring of the bed, the second Michael had crept aboard. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for the perfect moment to open them. First, he heard the even breaths, then quickly felt the soft brushes to his naked flesh. Once Michael had been comforted enough in simply watching from afar. Now, he had grown brave.

Brian pounced, grabbing Michael’s tiny biceps and shoulders, rolling them until he had his *prize* captured underneath him. “Good Morning, Michael.” He wickedly smiled as he adjusted his body to cover, tangling with Michael. He wanted to be assured of keeping Michael right where he liked him best.

“Uh... Morning to you, too, Brian.” Michael had been shocked for a split second. The radiating warmth of the heated, whipcord body put him in a calm state. Wiggling slightly, Brian’s hips fit snuggly against his own groin. His hands were trapped under Brian’s heaving chest. He itched to set them free on a much desired path of pleasure. His fingertips tickled Brian’s nipples. They puckered, protruding at the erotic sensation. Michael forcefully pushed his way down to trace the hardness of Brian’s abdomen, trailing over to cup either side of the *love handles*.

There was a slight give to the loose skin, showing that Brian had earned his physically fit body the hard way. Michael’s hands stopped at the elastic edge of the old sweat pants. Michael paused, knowing this would begin a whole new territory for him, but *old hat* for Brian.

Brian dove in to swipe his nose lightly across Michael’s forehead, pressing butterfly kisses to the pale flesh. He was using his hands, on either side of Michael’s prone form to hold his body up. “Do it, Michael. I want you to touch me... touch me... please...” His lips dipped to brush against Michael’s open lips, biting and meshing with the plump pink skin. He kissed a path down Michael’s cheek to his long neck coming up to whisper in the shell of Michael’s ear. “I’m burnin’ up... don’t be afraid... I promise not to bite...” Brian sucked on the end of Michael’s ear lobe. “At least not too hard...”

“My hands are cold.” Michael blushed, trying to bury his face in hiding.

“Cold hands, warm heart. My favorite combination.” Brian had expected Michael to play the innocent for longer, which was making him more horny. The cool fingers dipping inside his sweat pants flittered about to investigate, cautiously. “Feel me? I’m on fire.”

Michael’s fingertips delved deeply into the coarse pubic hair, slipping lower to tentatively grip the elongated member that had become rock solid. “Christ! You’re so... so... so”

“Huge?!” Brian choked out as he felt Michael’s curious hand envelope his cock in his soft hand. He lost his balance, crumbling on top of Michael, but saved himself by getting back up on his elbows and forearms. “God!... that feels so fuckin’ good. You can squeeze... harder, if you like...”

“Brian...” Michael laughed, finding Brian’s breath on his neck, ticklish. “It’s not really a question of ME liking this. What do YOU want me to do?”

“Anything?”

“Anything... within reason...”

Brian had to chuckle. That was so... so... so... Michael. He was growing more attached to this gregarious man. He wanted to bury his body inside of Michael, soaking up everything he could possibly get from him. “I’m not a man of many principles, so *anything* is fair game to me.” He effortlessly flipped over to his back, never losing Michael’s hand. “Think of me like your own... uh, living doll...” He put his arms above his head, on the pillows, leaving his entire body on display for Michael to explore, touch, taste and fondle any way he felt like.

“Brian?”

“Hmm...” Brian had closed his eyes to wait for the beginning of Michael’s playful caresses. Once they came, His breath caught, easing out in along stream of air. “That feels.... ahhmmmaaaaazzzzingggg...” He’d been jacked-off before by plenty of *Johns*. Knowing Michael’s inexperience and the possible future they could have together, simply put Brian over the edge.

An edge he never wanted to come back from.

~*~  
 ****I’ve never had an early morning fuck that I had met more then once. This was all new to me, as well.**

 **Michael a virgin at gay sex. ME? A virgin at gay love and relationships.**

 **This was a *relationship*, right? Defining this, what was between Michael and I, was difficult.**

 **My hips instantly jutted into Michael’s hand. I didn’t mind the time he was taking at what, I think, was foreplay. That was a foreign word for me. Usually the men in my bed only wanted to get their rocks off, not really caring about the *build-up* to the actual act.**

 **I could do this. I really, really could do this... every single damn morning.... and every single damn night.**

 **Only, though, if it was Michael. Potency in this small, tight package. I could feast on him for days and days and days, wasting hours away just simply being together.**

 **What in the HELL was happening to me?****   
~*~ 

Michael’s amateur handling of Brian’s engorged cock was maddening, not in a bad way. He was surprisingly gentle, probably from knowing how he liked his self-masturbation to peak. He tried every avenue of indulgence, finding out what made Brian groan and moan loudest, then magnifying that move.

Brian’s throat gulped as he thrust forward, his hands moving to hold onto the frame of the futon. It didn’t take long for the bells to start ringing in his head.

“Shit! Fuck!” Michael shouted in frustration as he climbed over Brian to reach for the cordless phone. “What!?” He rolled his eyes as he leaned back on Brian’s over heated body and tight muscles. “Yeah, I was... kind of... in the middle of something.” His eyes looked down at Brian, grinning from ear to ear. “Okay... that’s fine...” Covering the mouthpiece, Michael began talking with Brian. “It’s Auggie. They got plans this afternoon. They still want to keep our *date*, but make it mid-morning. Like a *brunch* I suppose.” He wanted to know if there were going to be any problems.

Brian inhaled a calming breath, hoping nobody could hear his erratic heartbeats. “It’s okay with me.” It felt weird to have been brought to such climactic heights, become interrupted, but still have Michael touching him, leaning on him, caressing his fevered skin.

Michael looked over at the face of the wall clock. “Auggie, can I ask why you are calling me at nearly two-thirty in the morning?... Babylon? Really? No, I haven’t been in weeks. No, uh... no, I don’t have any reason for going anymore.” He maneuvered on the bed to straddle across Brian’s hips, staring down at the beautiful face and wide hazel eyes. He trailed a wandering hand down Brian’s chest. “Yeah, I’m pretty well-satisfied with what I have at home.”

Brian raised his eyebrow at the word *home*. God, he didn’t know if he’d ever grow used to hearing that again and not grow emotional stunted. Home was awkward for him to explain. He reached out a hand to cup, and caress, Michael’s cheek. He liked the way Michael was dipping his head for Brian to put more pressure in his clutches.

Michael arched and began to slowly descend to lay on top of Brian, while the phone was still in his hand attached to his ear. “Yeah... uh-huh... sure...” He shut his eyes, rolling them at the sensations Brian’s fingers were creating as they started massaging his scalp. “Of course... uh-huh...” Michael let out a huge sigh of contentment. He used his spare hand to trace the exposed skin of Brian’s abdomen, using his index finger to *draw* imaginary words and shapes.

~*~  
 ****Strange, we act like rabid bunnies who need to fuck, to consume each other to quench a churning fire, yet... here we both are... like an old married couple, set in their ways, comfortable in their skin... serene and restful with one another...**

 **... and I’m STILL as hard as a fuckin’ rock!!**

 **I want this. I need this. I finally am deciding to choose something for myself.**

 **I want Michael. I need Michael. There’s something inexplicable between us that has a potential to burn bright like an intense fire. And like that growing ember... it can be extinguished... so easily**

 **But... I’m afraid.**

 **Okay, I admit it... I‘m afraid of what will happen once I choose to be happy.**

 **Being happy hasn’t brought me much luck. That’s why I try to make everyone else around me... so fuckin’ ecstatic, I can forget about my own maudlin crap.**

 ***Being happy*... what the fuck does it mean? I’ve never been able to truly understand why people use the word so frequently. There are so many other ways to describe a feeling.**

 **But what do you use when all the others simply pale in comparison?**

 **I’ve never been able to attain true happiness. Always wondered what it would feel like...**

 **It’s not really a feeling... if I thought about it... it’s a presence...**

 **There’s *light* around you. There’s a *glow* in your body... in your eyes... there’s pin-point tingling in your fingers... like being held an inch from complete warmth..**

 **There’s motion and flow... constant and even... you’re fairly certain you’re simply drifting through the world and your life... until the moment you can come together with... what or who makes you *happy*.**

 **Then you’re still.**

 **After all that moving about... frantic and flighty... you’re calm and steady. Anchored to the ground, strong and confident. Closing your eyes helps. Your imagination can often create better images then reality.**

 **I look up to stare at the ceiling above me. The high vaulted ceiling of Emmett and Michael’s loft apartment. It’s a normal looking ceiling. I’ve seen it the past weeks and have begun to imagine that I would be gazing at these planks, boards and piping for the rest of my life.**

 **I could do this. Wanting it bad enough, I can do this. I can give up my old life...**

 **... for Michael.**

 **All he has to do is ask.****   
~*~ 

Michael hung up from his call and rested his head over Brian’s chest. He liked hearing the steady beating underneath. “Brian?”

“Present.”

“Move in with me.”

The words came out as easily as a simple *Hello*.

Michael didn’t lift his head once. “If you feel crowded, we can look for a place for ourselves.”

“Michael... you have so much invested already with Emmett here.”

“Is that a ‘No’?”

“No.”

“Good. That means you’re thinking about it, or you’ve been thinking about it as long as I have.” Michael finally lifted his head, resting his chin on Brian’s chest. “What’s your situation like?”

Brian raised a brow. He was simply trying to grasp the fact that Michael had picked up on his inner thoughts. Michael had been the first to ask about anything leading toward a permanent relationship between them. “My apartment situation, you mean?” He watched Michael nod his head. “It... well, at the moment, it’s not like this loft. There’s not quite as much room. There’s an annoying young kid who stays over most nights because he’s late paying his rent... trying to avoid his landlord. At least that’s what he keeps telling me.” Brian shrugged one shoulder. “He’s got a *small*...” He used his index finger and thumb to demonstrate the size. “... crush on me that I’ve never acted on, but he keeps trying...” Reaching down, under Michael’s armpits, Brian pulled the tight frame up along his hard, heated one. He wanted them to lay face to face, on the pillows. With a slight ache to his hip, Brian was able to maneuver them about on the mattress. “I don’t take Johns there, because it’s been my *home* for the past eighteen years. The only sex that happens there is masturbatory. I don’t give out my phone number to any men, except the young gay boys I take under my wing...”

Michael put a hand out to shut Brian up. “I didn’t ask you to explain your life to me. I understand.”

“I didn’t answer your question?”

“Yes, you did. We’ll pick up all your things tomorrow, after brunch. You’ll stay here in the meantime, while we figure things out.” Michael brushed back some wayward locks of hair off Brian’s forehead.

Gripping tightly onto Michael’s hand, Brian tugged him over. The tips of their noses bopped. “You’re sounding awfully possessive.”

Michael easily crawled over, straddling Brian again. Sitting on the jutting hip bones, he placed a hand over each of Brian’s wrists holding them captive. “I don’t see you fighting me, Kinney. Something’s telling me... you’re ready...”

“Ready?” Brian chuckled, adoring this forceful side to Michael. “Ready for what?”

“To be claimed... as mine... body and soul...” Letting the wrists go, Michael trailed his fingers down each arm, all along Brian’s beautifully sculpted shape, until he reached the elastic waistband of the borrowed pajama bottoms. He pulled the material down, the edge displaying the beginning shadowing of fine dark brown pubic hair.

“Michael...”

“Yeah...” Michael sounded like Brian was bothering him.

“I’ve got one request.” Brian let out a ragged breath. At the sensations of light, airy kisses on his naked, cooling flesh.

“What?” Michael teased the engorged cock underneath the cotton material, rubbing along the smooth length hidden.

“I want my own clothes.” Brian managed to get out in one held breath. He didn’t want to cum inside the borrowed pajama bottoms.

“Now?” Michael stared fascinated at the massive organ being kept covered.

“No...” Brian sounded strangled and prepared to let go of his pent-up emotions. “... later’s good...” He reached up to grip the futon’s frame again. “Michael...”

“What now?” Michael began to work Brian out of the plaid bottoms, throwing them, on the floor, in the distance. He sounded like he was busy.

Brian opened his mouth, finding an inability to converse for a few seconds. “Uh... oh... never mind...”

Michael took gentle care of Brian, as he wrapped his warm palm around the thick member, sending a light twisting motion along the length. “Was it important?”

“No...” Brian nervously snickered. “... in fact, your doing it...”

“Hmm...” Michael chuckled at having the same idea as Brian. “... isn’t that interesting.”

“Yeah! I thought so, too.” Brian wasn’t expecting Michael to take him fully inside of his mouth, but... then again, he wasn’t prepared for much of what Michael was doing to him. He sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. “Ssssshit! Are you sure... that you haven’t done this before, Michael?!”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“I’ll say.”

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“Michael... you’d be surprised what kind of pain I could take.”

“Well... it’s not like there’s ways to practice a technique... you study the tips, in sex guides, videos and books, but having someone to test them out on is...”

“Can I touch you?”

Michael nodded his head, unsure of how to take what Brian was asking. Wasn’t mutual touching a given in consensual sex? Raising his eyes toward Brian’s, he lifted an eyebrow in query. “Do you even need to ask?”

A guttural growl rolling in his belly, Brian flipped them over, Michael laying on the bottom. His lips landed directly above Michael’s shocked, open ones. The tip of his tongue snaked out to trace the lips being offered to him. “I wanna taste... you. I wanna taste me... in you.” He bit, pressing his mouth deeply into Michael’s. Their tongues blended in unison, licking and slurping, sampling each other’s delectableness. “Can I... undress you?” A tender hand wandered down to play at the edge of Michael’s sweat pants. The fingers aching to enter down further.

Michael grabbed the sides of Brian’s head, holding it steady. He made sure their eyes met. Brown drowning in hazel. “Stop askin’... and just... DO!”

Rubbing the side of his cheek against Michael’s, his lips brushing the cusp of the delicate ear lobe, Brian whispered. “Tell me what you like... right now, you’re in control... I’m yours to command. I’ll understand if there’s a point where you feel like stopping. I’m NOT going anywhere. This can be as slow and gentle... or as fast and furious as you want, Michael.”

Using one hand to clutch the point of Brian’s chin, forcing them to look directly at one another, Michael continued to stare at Brian, soaking up all his striking features. The pale furrowed brow, the dark jutting eyebrows, the hazed sullen eyes, the prominent nose... the moist, luscious lips... quivering for his next words. He had power he never knew possible, but was finding it difficult to use in the face of such clarity.

Michael loved Brian. Would give up everything for him. Would turn his world upside down simply to be near him. It rocked him to realize that those thousand times before, when he believed it was *love*... couldn’t even touch one speck of what was laying before him. Right on top of him. Two seconds from penetrating more then his spirit and soul.

He was willing to let go of his fears, succumb to the bliss of discovering who he really was and who he could become... if he wanted to. The courage had always been there. Michael only needed the right person to show him the way.

“Michael? Are you okay?” Brian smoothed a hand over Michael’s cheek.

“I’m fine. I’m better then fine... I’m...” Michael couldn’t find a word to fill in here exactly.

“Happy?” Brian helped supply as he lent his forehead down on Michael’s.

“That sounds so lame... and dorky...” Michael felt embarrassed.

Brian buried his face in the crevice of Michael’s shoulder and neck. “I like *lame*... and I adore *dorky*... I think I...” He didn’t know if he should reveal himself so soon.

Michael was too busy trying to stop blushing, when he looked over to see Brian staring down at him. Their faces merely inches apart. The sinful mouth gaped open above his to say something. Brian was rendered speechless.

“What? What is it?”

“I think... don’t hate me, but I think I... I think I love you.”

All laughter and smiles disappeared from Michael’s features. “Brian...”

Brian squeezed his eyes tight, hoping he hadn’t been a fool to say it out loud. “I know that seems moot to a man like me, but something’s happening here, Michael. Between us. It’s a feeling, I'm proud to admit, I’ve NEVER felt for another man before. I’m praying that I’ve done this right. That I haven’t scared you away. I don’t know what to say to you... except that I love you... and I’m not saying it simply to get in your pants, either... I just... I was...” Brian was growing worried by the blank expression on Michael’s face. “Have I killed the moment?”

Michael slowly shook his head to decline a *yes* answer. “I’m trying to think of an even better way to tell you the same thing.”

Brian swallowed the lump in his throat. “YOU love ME?!?”

Lifting his head from the pillow, Michael brushed his lips against Brian’s. “Take me to bed.”

“We are in bed.”

“My bed.”

“In YOUR bedroom?”

Michael wrapped his arms secure about Brian’s waist. “I have this growing fear that Emmett might come home soon. I don’t want to be out here, if we’re in the middle of something. Besides... you don’t know if I’m a *screamer* or not. I don’t want to give you a heart attack or cause you to be ashamed of me. Being in my bedroom would give us some privacy.” He shrugged his nonchalance as he waited for Brian’s reply. “That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Chuckling deep inside his belly, Brian climbed up from the futon mattress, dragging Michael with him. Amidst much laughter and squealing, he hefted his light load over his shoulder. At night, Brian was a little disoriented. “Okay, which way?” He smacked Michael’s rear, hoping for some navigation orders.

Out of breath from laughing so hard, Michael tried to figure out where his goddamn bedroom door was from upside down. “See that cardboard cutout of Captain Astro?”

“Who?” Brian squinted his eyes to look about the loft.

“The gay super hero caught in flight dressed in yellow tights.”

Brian strolled easily toward the open bedroom doors, stopping to look the image over on the wall. “How can you tell he’s gay? Don’t all super heros wear tights?” He couldn’t tell what kind of *package* the man had.

Michael began to rub his hands together in pleasure. “Have I got something to teach you, Mr. Kinney! Well, later... once we’ve... oh, forget it... can you throw me down on the bed already?!?!”

“Yes, sir!”

The bedroom door was kicked shut to ward off any wandering eyes and ears.

~*~  
 ****I’ve led a full life. It might not have been the most appropriate, appealing way, but... here I stay... alive and kickin’.**

 **A living, breathing, carnal male who has basic needs and wants. Despite my line of work, the money I make and the men who purport to *need* me, desire me... I have reached many unattainable heights. I had done about anything and everything a person can do, making my choices to stay away from what I deemed as terrible, cruel or wrong.**

 **Or... I had thought so... before meeting Michael.**

 **Michael was awakening in me certain qualities I had once believed forever lost. Once you’ve chosen to move forward, what’s the sense in going back?**

 **Well, that is, until you feel safe again. Truly treasured and loved beyond boundaries of all types.**

 **I haven’t felt safe since I was five years old.**

 **Michael makes me feel safe. Protected and pampered. He makes me feel like I can do, or be, anything I want.**

 **All I want... is to be *his* and *his* alone.**

 **All I want... right this minute? To be buried deep inside of him.**

 **Clinging tight to his body. Drowning in every ounce of his soul that he’s willing to hand me.**

 **This is a different type of shelter for me.**

 **I would do anything and everything for the Lost Boys of Liberty Avenue, but there’s a line drawn.**

 **With Michael, that *line* is blurred, slightly askew. The more I fall into his keeping, the more I realize one fact... solid and true.**

 **I would die for him...****   
~*~ 

**~~TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

Standing at the edge of the king-sized bed frame, Michael took off his last stitch of clothing. Using his foot to chuck the sweat pants in another area of the bedroom. He was shivering, from nerves more than the cool air in the room. He couldn’t see Brian, could only sense him approaching. Tingles ran up his spine. 

Gradually, Brian strolled over to Michael. His chest meshed against Michael’s sloped back, the perfect globes of Michael’s ass fitting Brian’s pelvic area, finding a niche. He placed a hand on either side of Michael’s hip bones, dipping his head to kiss a trail down the curved spine. Upon reaching the tail bone, Brian put a hand out to gently persuade Michael to bend forward, on the bed. Though his touch was tender, the sexual frustration lay underneath.

Michael quietly complied, making certain his legs were properly widened as he landed on the palms of his hands, on the mattress. His backside ground into Brian’s groin causing a sharp intake of breath from both men. Michael’s forehead hit the linen, muffling his voice. “There’s lube... and condoms in the night stand drawer.” His thumb pointed for extra direction.

“Not yet.” Sidling up further, Brian’s increasing length caressed the inside flesh of Michael's thighs. He licked and bit at the pale moist skin displayed under him. “Have you ever been *rimmed*, Michael?”

“Once, but the guy had such an aversion to...” Michael had no idea why he felt like going on about a low-grade past sexual experience. His nerves must be shot. “... never mind. Once, but I’m not gonna count it.”

“Good.” Brian sculpted a hand over the rounded ass cheeks, spreading the skin down the middle. He took his thumb, gently rubbing the puckered flesh. “Would you like me...?”

“Yes! Please! Now!” Michael hurriedly interrupted.

Chuckling deeply, Brian hunched over to whisper in Michael’s ear. “Remember... I am yours to command. I want your first time to be... unforgettable.”

Moaning into the sheets, Michael fisted the material in both hands as he felt the first glide of a tongue on his anus. There was no patch of exposed flesh left unattended. Brian always found interesting ways to distract his lovers from the main event. He wasn’t about to spare Michael what any other man would receive, but eventually have to pay for once the night was over.

Brian slurped a trail back up Michael's arched spine, his fingers coddling the sensitive areas. He played at Michael’s entrance, anticipating Michael to voice his next pleasure. He thought to help along. “It’s customary, for first timers, to attempt to prepare...”

Michael groaned, rolling over onto his back, pulling Brian down with him. “I know... spare me the *Sex Manual* talk.” An arm crooked around Brian’s neck, Michael effortlessly raised his leg, propping his foot on the bed. His lips teased Brian’s into fooling around. “I can’t stand not being able to see you. Your eyes. I NEED to look into your eyes.”

“I’m sorry.” Brian hated not being able to *know* that. He wanted to mark this down as a main point of sex between them. He lingered his lips above Michael’s panting ones. “I’ll have to remember that for later.”

“No apologies. I’m ready.”

“So am I.” Brian straddled Michael, hovering above him, thrusting once to cause their erections to brush against each other.

“Ah! Christ!” Michael gasped at the glorious heat.

Picking up the lube, from the drawer, Brian lathered his fingers, preparing them for Michael. At the crown of Michael’s opening, Brian pushed forward, very timidly, with one single digit.

“Oh... shit! Yeah!” Michael arched his neck as he met Brian’s slow invasion. “More.”

Brian continued to meld and kiss Michael’s skin as he watched the pale flesh redden with passion. The slight sheen of sweat gathered quickly as Michael tried to find anything to grip, hold onto, as he lost himself in pleasure. “Two?” He was already increasing his fingers when he looked down at Michael’s eyes.

Shaking his head, Michael closed his eyes. “More.” He bit his lip as he felt the churning in his belly begin. He shouldn’t be amazed at the way Brian was deftly handling this situation, but Brian always seemed to know which buttons to push next.

Brian added the third finger, only penetrating so far. He couldn’t wait any longer. Pressing his mouth along the column of the exposed throat tendons and muscles, he pinned Michael’s wrists above his head. “Cum for me. I want to see you cum for me... I need to see you cum... with me.”

“I want that... too.” Michael managed to warble out as he tried to come back to Earth.

Holding out a condom packet, Brian purred, rubbing his face with Michael’s. “I want you to put the condom on me.”

Michael immediately took the offer. He tore into the packet with his teeth. The latex rubber was rolled up to the tip. He reached down toward Brian’s elongated member, sheathing the stiff length. He kept a hand around the searing flesh.

Both men locked eyes, knowing that in the next two seconds they would consummate their mutual sexual attraction. Adding more meaning behind they love they already felt for one another.

Brian nearly passed out as Michael continued to touch him, helping guide the way. His forehead hit Michael’s, their noses brushed and their mouths breathed into, and from, each other. “Christ! You’re so...”

Michael released Brian as his cock immersed itself to the hilt. Wrapping a leg up and over Brian’s hip gave better leverage for a deeper entry. “Tight?” Michael moaned in ecstasy.

Clamping a hand around Michael's jaw, Brian began to suckle at the open mouth. “Incredibly warm.” He thrust once. “You’re perfect... just right.” He thrust twice. “You’re...” Brian found himself at a loss for words. He didn’t want to cum without having Michael right along his side. “... intoxicating.... wonderful... and all mine.” He hoped Michael didn’t mind the possessive sound to his voice.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?” Brian appeared distracted by an overload of emotions pummeling him all at once.

“It’s okay.” Michael traced his hands under and up Brian’s armpits, to envelope him close. “I’m ready... for more. Don’t feel you have to hold yourself back for me.” His fingers met, entangling in Brian’s hair, yanking once or twice to allow him access to Brian’s neck, the dip into his shoulders.

Brian frowned, not knowing if Michael truly knew what he might be getting himself into. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.” He shook his head slowly, thinking this was a bad idea for Michael’s first time.

Michael tugged roughly at the back of Brian’s head, biting , licking and munching along the exposed neck. “You love me?”

Brian was caught in mid-thrust, filling Michael completely and resting inside of him, sensations tingling at the surface. “Yes! More than I ever thought possible.” He groaned, closing his eyes as he felt Michael gyrate, once and twice, contracting his muscles around Brian’s thick shaft.

“Then it’s highly unlikely you could hurt me. I trust you... with my life. I love you, Brian.” Michael tried to get Brian to look him in the eye. “Now... fuck me... like I know you want to!”

Brian sped up his pace by Michael’s command. “This... isn’t... fucking...” His voice sounded out of breath.

“Oh?”

“No. I’ve *fucked* plenty of times. This... isn’t it! I think...” Brian fell forward to land his head next to Michael’s. “... don’t kill me for saying this... but we’re making love.” At that admission, Brian continued to thrust in and out of Michael. He couldn’t get enough of the man beneath him. “So in a way... this is my first time, too.”

“I like that idea.” Michael moaned out as his prostate was manipulated, again and again.

“I thought you would.” Brian pulled out, the tip of his cock still inside. He seemed to need to catch his breath in order to continue.

Letting his hands sculpt down Brian’s back, Michael’s fingers trailed around toward Brian’s abdomen. His own dick was hardening and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Brian had the same idea.

Their combined fingers worked to make them both reach the pinnacle of orgasm.

“Oh, God! I’m almost there!!” Brian's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

“Harder!”

“For me? Or for you?”

“I don’t care. Either way I’m gonna cum!!”

Brian let a smirk slip out as he encouraged Michael to peak. With all his expertise, never had Brian even tried to match his pace with another man. Odd, how it was actually increasing his own sensations and pleasure.

“Brian?” Michael had his eyes shut, his breathing in spurts and extremely labored.

“Michael...” Brian gripped the nape of Michael’s neck, hugging his other arm around Michael, he rolled them together. On his back, Brian lifted up to kiss Michael. He was curious to know what Michael needed to say. Placing a gentle hand to Michael’s lower back, he pushed slightly. “Ride it out.”

A hurried breath was released as Michael took control of the penetration. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know it could be like this.” He enjoyed the fact that he was noticing nothing but smiles on Brian’s face. “Is it even possible that I could love you more, than ten minutes ago?”

Brian chuckled as he nodded in agreement. He moaned into Michael’s mouth as he thrust one last time. Michael squeezed his muscles. “Oh... Good God!” Arching his back, Brian ejaculated inside the condom. Michael plopped his burning face on top of his chest.

Michael’s own orgasm was spent between their entwined bodies. They needed a few minutes to catch their breaths.

Dragging Michael up his quivering frame, Brian hooked an arm around his neck. His fingers tangled in the sweaty raven locks. Never before had Brian wanted to *cuddle* after sex. Usually he was quickly out of the bed and showering, making sure all remains of his nightly trysts were gone. He'd had powerful sex before, but definitely not this mind blowing.

Was it different because it was Michael? Or did *love* play a factor? Mutual love between them?

Laying face to face on the mattress, both men completely, utterly speechless, Brian entwined his fingers with Michael’s. Palm to palm, he brought the back of Michael’s hand to his lips. He kissed the soft flesh, moving to tuck their hands under his cheek. His eyes shut in satiated bliss.

Michael reached to drag a pillow over. They were laying awkwardly on the bed. Neither of them wanted to move. Michael scooted up, curling his body around Brian. He placed the beautiful, restful features under his chin on his shoulder. Brian was exhausted. Michael thought he might be falling asleep.

It had been quite a workout for both men.

Michael pressed a gentle kiss to Brian’s temple, brushing his hand through the mahogany locks, twirling some between his fingers. He wasn’t far behind Brian as his lids drooped more and more.

Brian woke up long enough to catch Michael’s huge sigh of contentment. For the very first time, since he was a little boy, Brian lost himself into dreamland with the widest smile on his lips.

**************************************************

Bright and early this morning, Brian and Michael had woken up, made slow love, showered and brought one another to mutual orgasms again. Michael dressed in a casual wine-colored button down long-sleeved shirt with dark navy blue Dockers. Brian could only dress in some borrowed seats.

They drove to Brian’s apartment. Thankfully, there was no sign of Justin.

Hefting out Brian’s dusty, mis-matched luggage and a few duffel bags, they packed a majority of Brian’s things. They stored everything in the trunk and the back seat of Michael’s car.

The last run into Brian’s apartment was for Brian to change into his own clothes. A soft pair of burnt orange denims, a short sleeved mock turtleneck cream shirt with a long-sleeved, button down dark suede shirt.

Both men topped off their cool, calm, and collected looks with a pair of sunglasses. Though the weather was cool and breezy, the sun shone bright.

The outdoor restaurant was crowded. Brian and Michael arrived first.

The table sat four, side by side. Their backs were facing the front door. Brian’s arm was around the back of Michael’s chair. Michael’s right arm was tucked securely, and possessively, between Brian’s thighs.

Michael had placed his cloth napkin over his lap. They’d ordered some light food before their main brunch meal. Two fruit salads would be arriving.

Leaning over, Michael pretended to whisper a secret. “Pinch me.”

Brian raised a curious brow, taking a sip of his cranberry juice. “To see if you’re dreamin’?”

Shaking his head, Michael found a spot he liked on Brian’s neck, where a huge vein pulsed. “Nah. I simply want you to pinch me.”

Brian wasn’t expecting Michael to openly bite his neck. His heart quickened at the tender tickle. He felt the wetness cool in the air. “Oh-kay!” He’d been glancing around, frantic with worry. Public places weren’t his usual forte in the daylight. Too many people might recognize him, or he’d know them.

Well, actually he was looking for two people in particular. They frequented places like these.

Brian didn’t want Michael to think he was acting cold because of him. He turned his wrist to glance at the time. “I hope they’ll make it okay... and they’re alright.”

Michael was about to turn and check the doorway. “Me, too.”

The waiter delivered their plates.

At that moment, Vic and Auggie walked through the door, making their way toward their usual table.

The waiter recognized his frequent customers right away. “Can I start you boys off with a drink? Some food?” He took their coats.

Placing a warm hand on the waiter’s biceps, Vic smiled easily. “Drinks first, hon’. We’ll take the meal in a half-hour.” He faced Brian, who had gotten up out of his chair. “My, oh my... you must be Brian! They weren’t kidding. You ARE bee-u-tee-full!” He whistled out his approval.

“Vic!” Auggie swatted at his *husband*. “Don’t embarrass the poor thing!”

Coming from behind Brian, Michael bussed Auggie’s cheeks. “Good morning, sweetie! Thanks for inviting us out.”

“Hey, pun’kin!” Auggie stepped back to look Michael over. There was something different about him. “You look... well, adorable as always, but... “ He didn’t know if he should say what was really on his mind.

“What?” His arm snaked about Auggie’s waist. Michael had the goofiest grin on his face. “Please... you know you can be honest with me.”

Vic put a hand out. “Excuse me. Let me seat myself for this one.”

Glancing about the room, Auggie put a hand over his mouth. “Michael, my dear... you look... thoroughly fucked.”

“Gus!” Vic shook his head, getting up out of his seat, drawing his embarrassed nephew into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “It’s good to see you so happy, Michael.” He held out a hand for Brian to take. “Vic Grassi.” Chucking a thumb over his shoulder to his spouse. “That’s my wonderful, tactful other half, Augustus Newton-Grassi. Don’t pay him any attention.”

Brian took Vic’s strong hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Michael’s been spinning some wild tales. Good to put a face to the name.”

“Same here.” Vic retook a seat, across from Michael.

“Hey, gorgeous!” Auggie gave Brian a light cuddle, bussing his cheek. “Sit! Sit! Sit! Vic and I have done nothing but stand on our tuckered out feet most of this morning.

Brian and Michael did as requested, pocketing their sunglasses. They both decided to dig into their fruit salads. The waiter brought over Vic and Auggie’s drinks.

“Doctor appointments?” Michael inquired, glancing between his uncles.

Vic reached a hand out to cover Michael’s hand resting on the table surface. “I’m fine, Michael. I have been for almost a month.” He noticed Brian’s curious look. “I’m HIV+.”

Brian wiped his mouth. All he did was nod carefully. He’d heard worse. “Really? I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t said something. You look spectacular.”

Vic and Auggie shared a *look*.

“See, honey, didn’t I tell you?!” Auggie rubbed Vic’s forearm, lovingly.

Brian got quiet. “Did I say something wrong?”

Vic’s smile grew more broad. “No, son. I’ve only been worried about... well, Michael’s barely come out of the closet. And you’re more experienced...”

“In more ways than one.” Auggie filled in, unneeded words. “Sorry.”

Vic rolled his eyes, fairly used to being rudely interrupted. “Before I leave this world, I need to make sure all my loved ones are happy and protected. Finding love for Michael has always been a goal of mine. And if YOU are the one who’s put that *sparkle* in his eyes... well, then, all I can say is... Welcome to the family.”

Brian gulped the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Mr Grassi.”

“Oh!” Auggie covered his face with a flighty hand. “He’s got such manners, Vic.”

Vic shook his head, hoping his eyes could convey to Brian that Auggie was purely harmless. “*Vic*, Brian. You can call me Vic.”

Brian was about to eat the rest of his food, when he decided to not let this moment pass him by. “Vic, if you don’t mind me saying this to you... I love Michael. I don’t use that word lightly in my life, because of my profession. When I say it, I mean the words.” His arm went back up behind Michael’s chair. “I’m prepared to do anything to stay with your nephew, but I don’t want you to think I’m stepping all over his heart, taking over his world. I need to know that you’ll be okay with me... with me being a part of Michael’s life. He’s already asked me to move in. In fact, most of my shit is packed and waiting to brought over to the loft in Michael’s car. I want  
this to work between us.”

Michael had to turn his head away, the tears gathering in his eyes.

Vic’s eyes dilated. “Brian, are you asking for my permission to see Michael? Or are you wanting something more from me?”

Auggie’s eyes widened in shock. “Like a marriage proposal?”

Brian had to laugh. He knew they would think this. It was kind of sweet. “No, but close. I didn’t have a very loving childhood. I ran away from home at a young age and took to the streets. I’ve made my living off my body. I’ve never allowed anyone near me, enough for me to care too much. But Michael... Michael’s different.” He moved his hand to caress Michael’s blushing cheek. “I want to change my life for Michael. I want to be a better man for him. I want him to be proud of me. I need him to be able to come to me and simply ask...  
and I will do my damnedest to get everything I can for him.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Michael shut Brian up, himself, by kissing him. “I... love... you.”

“Oh, Lordy!” Auggie was trying to hide his teary eyes, waving his hand around to dry them.

Ending the kiss, Brian lent his forehead on Michael’s. “I love you, too, Michael... but Vic hasn’t said one word.”

Clearing his throat, Vic had to wipe at the corners of his eyes. “My nephew’s no dummy. If he loves you, there’s got to be some redeeming qualities beyond what we see on the surface. So... yeah, Brian... I give you my blessing. For whatever the future may bring for you... and Michael.” He lifted his glass in the air.

Three other glasses came in the center to meet and make a toast in full agreement.

***************************************************

Brian was off in the restroom, when Vic and Auggie said their goodbyes to Michael.

Auggie squeezed Michael’s cheeks together, kissing the mushed lips. “I’m so happy for you. He’s so, so sexy and delicious and beautiful and polite and... he smells wonderful... did I mention sexy?”

Michael pushed Auggie off of him. “No! I’m not turning into a *swinger* for you. I’m just now adapting to my gay lifestyle.”

Auggie snapped his fingers in an *Ah, shucks* routine. “Well, that’s good, ‘cause your uncle is man enough for me, anyway.”

“Christ! You said that like I was an afterthought!” Vic looked deeply into Michael’s face, beyond the smiles and blushes. “Are you truly ready for this, Michael?”

Michael knew what Vic was asking. “Yeah, sadly... but I do love him. More than I ever thought possible with another man.”

“You’re a good, sweet kid.” Vic patted Michael’s cheek. “Any man would be lucky to have you. I’m proud of you.”

“Think Ma might have a few things to say?”

“When does she not?!? We’ll deal with that problem later.” Vic looked at his watch. “Oh, gosh... we need to get on the road, Gus.”

The waiter brought back their jackets, plus Brian and Michael’s.

“See ya’, baby!” Auggie blew Michael a dozen kisses. “Give that man of yours a few wet lashes from me.”

Michael couldn’t stop chuckling as he watched Vic and Auggie exit the restaurant.

“Excuse me?”

A smile still on his face, Michael turned to face a very distinguished looking man dressed in a tailored suit. “I’m sorry. I’m in your way.” He was about to move to let the man pass when he noticed there was no movement forward.

“No. May I ask who that man you're with is?”

“That was my uncle, Vic Grassi and...”

The man snickered lightly, placing his hands in his trouser pockets. “No, the other one.”

Michael grew quiet, suddenly. He knew this moment might come, but he had never figured out what he’d do. Brian had a shady, licentious past. He’d swore that what was in the past would stay there, never blending into the future. Except at these awkward moments. “Uh... well, is there a reason why you need to...?”

“Let me do this another way. Are you with Brian Kinney?”

“Michael!” Lips tight in anger, Brian stood at a good distance. He had donned his sunglasses. “Come on! Let’s go!”

As Michael opened his mouth to explain, the strange man spoke up.

“Brian... where the hell have you been? I tried...”

Brian came closer to Michael to steer him out on the street. “I said... let’s go!”

The man was near enough to touch Brian. “Brian... please...”

“Don’t!” Brian yanked back from the man. “Don’t you EVER put your fuckin’ hands on me again!”

Michael looked shocked and perplexed. The stranger seemed harmless. A little cocky, but nothing to constitute such harsh language. “Brian, stop it! I can walk on my own!”

Grabbing for Michael’s hand, Brian walked them both out and away from all interested eyes. Unfortunately it almost came to be like Michael being dragged away. His short legs couldn’t keep up the fast pace with Brian. They were standing at the side of the car, when Michael finally let loose.

“What the fuck was THAT all about?” Michael tried to get Brian to look him in the eye.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brian shook his head of clouded thoughts. “I’m sorry. God... I am so sorry.” He quickly picked Michael up in his arms, sinking his body into the easy embrace. “Sorry, sorry, sorry... shit!”

Michael began to rub Brian’s back, soothingly. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me. If he’s an old trick, one of your Johns... I’m surprisingly good with that. You were so rude to him and he looked so, so...”

“He’s not a trick and he’s not an old John.”

Michael was confused. “Then what in the hell...”

Pulling out of Michael’s arms, sniffling his swirling emotions, Brian bowed his head, as if in shame. “He’s my father. Jack Kinney.”

Michael was left with his mouth wide open as Brian climbed into the passenger seat of the car. “Oh...”

This got more thrilling to uncover by the minute.

***************************************************

~*~  
 ****I swore to myself I'd act better around him. That I wouldn't allow the past to anger me. Seeing Jack talk to Michael enraged me to no end. I knew they couldn't be discussing anything deeper than *hellos*. I had been burned by my father enough times to know I should second guess him on every occasion.**

 **I've been stabbed in the back. Lied to my face. Talked about behind my back. Punched and kicked numerous amount of times by the hands of Jack Kinney.**

 **Every time I think I'm over him, I get maudlin. Some odd hour of the early morning finds me wandering near his home. I'm making sure he was doing right by his children.**

 **Around the time I had left home, apparently Jack had his last round of battles with Joan; the Ice Queen, herself. Jack split from Joan, but kept in close contact with Claire, my older sister. Jack met and remarried a nice, sweet lady. I have two step-brothers and a half-brother and a half-sister.**

 **I've got an entire family I've never met before.**

 **I'm not counting the plenty of times I stood at the new house Jack lived in with his other family. Staring through their picture window, secretly watching the kind of life that, for me, existed ONLY in my dreams.**

 **Those moments were dark times. Especially around my birthdays and the holidays.**

 **Jack always claimed to love all his kids... except me. I was the disappointment. Claire was the *apple* of Jack's eye. That used to bother me a lot. Now I'm so numb from the pain I have to remind myself why I hate him and despise the very sight of him.**

 **I knew if I was out in the open, in public enough, Jack would find me. I was exhausted with our relationship. I had done all the work, trying to win his approval. I didn't see the point of trying to forge a father/son bond that never existed in the first place. Jack continued to try. I had found out he was searching for me a few months back. I don't know why... maybe... since I'm his first born son, I'm entitled to something of his. I could care less.**

 **Everything I want... or need... is sitting right bedside me.**

 **I know Michael wants to know. He deserves to learn the full story. I want to tell him everything on my mind and in my heart. All my dreams and fears. I know that if I begin to reiterate my *Jack* tales, I won't be good company for days.**

 **Michael's been driving in silence for the past few minutes. I look like I'm asleep, but I'm fully awake. I suppose if I wasn't wearing the shades anyone could see. I've been giving Michael side glances, checking to see how frustrated he was becoming. Actually, he wasn't as upset as I thought.**

 **I felt terrible for talking to him the way I did at the restaurant. I can only assume that it was my protective nature for those I loved coming out. Michael had been right. I had been quite *rude* to Jack.**

 **I picked up his hand, resting it on my thigh.**

 **I needed my *connection* with Michael to work this old demon out of me.****   
~*~ 

Michael decided not to press the issue. Once Brian gripped his hand, he knew the situation wasn't as awful as he thought. Brian was probably still angry and frustrated, but none of it was geared toward him.

"You know, no matter how good-natured and well-meaning a parent is to the outside world, I bet you nine times out of ten, it's pure torture for the child." Michael flexed his fingers around Brian's thigh muscle.

"Speaking from experience?" Tucking his hand under Michael's, Brian brought the skin up to press his lips to the back of Michael's hand. He loved that Michael was understanding enough to make random excuses, not even knowing the whole story.

Michael shrugged, gently squeezing Brian's hand. "I love my mom, to death, but she meddles too much in my life. She's very possessive of my heart... and my time. She'd like you to think that I have no social life, but she has no one to depend on since Vic moved out and married Auggie. I help her all that I can. She wouldn't like knowing that she's ONE of the many reasons why I was afraid of *coming out*. Ma tends to be picky about my taste in men. She thinks I'm socially retarded."

"Then... she will fuckin' adore me." Brian chuckled out sarcastically as he wondered how Debbie would react to the news.

Michael's brow frowned in thought. "Don't you two know each other? I remember you telling me she liked you? That she might have been trying to *hook* us up?"

"Oh, yeah, she likes me right where I am. I think she's was trying to *buy* me for you. Or at least call in a favor to get me to help YOU admit your sexuality. Living with her precious baby boy... is a much harder idea to deal with." Turning to gaze out the passenger window, Brian tucked their joined hands under his jacket. He rubbed at each digit, separately.

"You know, Brian, when you're ready to talk about this... anything... I'm willing to listen."

"I know. Thank you... beyond words." Brian wanted to cry from the ache he was feeling. His stone cold heart was in the process of melting completely. They were stopped at a red light, when Brian reached over to kiss him, blowing *raspberries* on Michael's skin. He adored that Michael giggled, like a little boy, blushing at the blatant public display of affection. "Take me home, Michael." Brian was tracing his tongue down to Michael's neck. "Do you have to go into work today?"

"Nope." Michael felt the tickling sensation quite a distraction from driving. Someone honked from behind him. Damn! The light had turned green without him being aware. "Shit!"

Another driver, who was waiting to make a right turn into oncoming traffic, blocked his pathway to move. The car, behind him, was trying to sneak around to pull into the left turn lane at the light.

Michael never saw the dark green Toyota Tundra pull up along side of him, on his left, as he peeled away from the light, heading straight for *home*.

Brian quickly glanced through the rear window of the car, sure he had just been seeing things. His sunglasses didn't allow to see much color.

Or maybe it was the *chill* that rolled down his spine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brian and Michael made a quick expedition of getting all of Brian's things out of the car and up into the loft.

Michael was dragging the last duffel bag inside, when he noticed Brian hunched over the bar, a half-filled glass of water in his hand. "You okay?"

Brian was favoring his right leg. "My hip joint's been acting up today. It aches every now and then, when there's bad weather on the horizon."

Michael jogged up to curve himself around Brian's back. His hands curled about Brian's sides, meeting at his abdomen, patting the flat surface. "Could we have done some of that damage last night and this morning?" He moved slightly backward when Brian turned in his arms, leaning against the bar counter.

Brian raised a curious eyebrow. Funny, he hadn't thought of that at all as a *problem*. "During sex?"

Michael furrowed his brow in bewilderment. "WE had *sex* last night? Nah... not possible. All I recall is that mean game of Monopoly. You took Park Place, bought all the hotels and I got all the *Go Directly to Jail* cards..." He was losing Brian's concentration. "YES... I meant during the sex we had last night. What did you think I meant?"

Brian locked his arms around Michael's waist as he snickered at the humor that he hadn't picked up on quick enough. Too many things were on his mind. He wanted to only think about ONE thing... ONE person... He pushed Michael up his chest to press a tender kiss to his lips. "You taste so sweet... like pure sugar..."

Michael groaned at the sentimental words pouring from Brian's mouth. "You're not even the same man I met all those weeks ago."

"I don't want to be that man anymore. Not if you don't want me to." Setting Michael down on his feet, Brian rested his forearms over the perfectly level shoulders.

Grabbing Brian's shirt, Michael tugged at the material. "I don't want you to be someone you're not proud to wake up becoming every morning. I won't make demands on you that are impossible. I promise you that." He glanced at his watch. "You hungry? We don't have much in the fridge. I could go get us some food. What would you like?"

Brian stared intensely down into Michael's smiling eyes. "You... naked... in bed... uh, I think that's a good start."

"You know those weren't separate questions?"

Brian jerked Michael closer to bite, and munch, on his ear lobe. "What if... I'm hungry for you?"

Michael snickered, drawing back from Brian, with a hand on his chest. "Down, boy!"

Brian glanced down at Michael's hand on his chest. "Surprise me. I'm gonna test you. See if you *know* me well enough."

"Enough for what? Enough for you to stay here? Be in a relationship with me?" Michael pretended to pout, jutting out his bottom lip.

"It would take a lot more than THAT for me to leave you right now."

Michael stepped back, making sure he still had his keys in his pocket and his wallet. "From your lips..." He blew Brian a kiss, throwing it up in the air. "... to God's ears..." He moved back over to the elevator to push the button. The rickety elevator climbed to the fourth floor. Michael waved *goodbye* as he jumped on, brought the gate down and the doors shut.

Brian was left alone in the loft. As huge as it was, he couldn't help feeling like it had been more of a *home* to him than anywhere he'd ever been. He decided to run and take a quick shower, hoping the hot water might work well on his sore joints. He didn't want to admit it, but Michael had been right.

Their sex last night and this morning had caused him some slight aches and pain. He wasn't about ready to say it out loud. Michael would stop all together if he knew the truth.

He was smiling to himself, on his way to what was now he and Michael's bedroom, unbuttoning his suede shirt, peeling it off his arms. He heard the noise of the elevator. Brian shook his head in bewilderment.

Michael was frequently guilty of *pretending* to forget certain things, simply to be able to return to the loft to say *goodbye* to Brian... the right and proper way. Kissing played a major part in the ritual.

He threw the suede shirt over the arm of the futon, strolling over to meet the elevator when it opened. He noticed Michael's head through the window.

The doors widened to show the gate Michael was bending down to lift up.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Brian snickered as he approached. "What did you forget, now, Mich-...?" Brian stopped dead in his tracks. All the blood rushed to his heart. His face was devoid of all emotions.

"He forgot me... Mr. Kinney!" The shiny black 9mm gun cocked at the back of Michael's bowed head.

Michael slowly walked out of the elevator with his hands in the air, like he was being robbed.

Brian held out his hands, spread apart, trying to show he was going to cause no harm to the familiar intruder. "Chris... you've got NO beef with him. This... is between me and you. It's ME you want." He made a move like he was coming closer.

Michael made Brian pause. "NO! Brian... don't! Stay where you are!"

Chris Hobbs' face screwed up in mock sympathy. "Well,well... would you look at that. Two faggots willing to sacrifice their lives for one another. Doesn't that just tug at your fuckin' heart strings??!!"

"Chris, please... take me instead." Brian warbled out, still walking as close as he could

"Brian, shut up!" Michael begged, closing his eyes. "Don't come any further... I'm begging you!" He couldn't imagine what it would do to his heart to see Brian laying dead, gun shot to the head or chest.

Brian tried to catch his breath, curb his frightened looks, as he glanced at the angry young man. "Why, Chris?? What do you need from us to make you happy? You wanna see us dead at your feet? The fuckin' smokin' gun in your hands?" This time, Brian was pissed. He was remembering the rope around Michael's neck, the strangulation sounds and the marks that had only recently disappeared from Michael's pale skin.

Pulling Michael flush with his chest, Chris kept the gun tight to the temple. "My life... is a fuckin' mess!"

"Join the crowd!" Brian blurted out.

"You've done nothing but cause me trouble." Chris whined out as he grew more emotional.

Brian was confused. "Uh... it's not like we came *looking* for you. I seem to recall that most of the fights with you were started... by you."

"But you... both..." The tip of the gun pushed more into Michael's skin, he winced slightly. "... pressed charges this time. Do you know what that did to me? To my life? I've been through six weeks of physical therapy... and they still think I might not be able to use this arm. The muscles ain't right. And my father... Jesus..."

"Wait! Wait! Wait! You want me to fuckin' cry for you, you little asshole?" Okay... now Brian would put up a god-damn fuckin' fight!! "YOU nearly fuckin' choked Michael to death AND tried to run me over with your Big *butch* Truck! Who the fuck do you think you are!!?? You want to know about pain and suffering... well, I'll..." He was about to come at Chris, uncaring of where the gun was pointed because he'd been scoping the scene out while Chris jibber-jabbered his lazy nonsense.

He cocked the gun at Michael's head. "Do as your boyfriend said. Don't come any closer."

Brian was just about to make his secret move on Chris when Michael pulled his own underhanded maneuver.

Michael and Chris were in battle for the gun, struggling with all their might. They knocked over a few things. Both men toppled to the floor.

The last thing Brian saw before he passed out, from being knocked over the head, was Michael laying face down on the hardwood floor, red liquid pooling all around him. He tried to crawl in the direction of where Michael's hunched body lay...

He tried to hold on to sanity as best he could...

"Oh, no... Michael... no... Michael... Noooooo.... No No No..."

Brian wasn't about to believe that Michael could be taken from him so ruthlessly, so quickly... so foolishly.

Once Brian gained consciousness again, Chris Hobbs better be fuckin' dead... or he would kill him with his own bare hands.

"Michael... don't die.... I love you, Michael... hang on..."

 _**Fade to blackness...** _


	6. Chapter 6

**  
** ** **Present Day (reality)** **

"Brian! Wake up! Brian... come on... wake up!"

Cheeks were slapped. A shoulder was shaken.

Brian struggled for consciousness as he felt like he was drowning in a cloudy haze. "Wha-? Fuck!" He shot up in bed. "Michael?!" He turned to his trusty right side, where his partner usually safely lay to find Michael clutching his arm. Brian's breathing was frantic and winded, like he'd been running for twenty miles.

Soothing the tight back muscles, brushing back the sweaty bangs, Michael tried to calm Brian down from his dream. "I'm fine. I'm right here." He situated his leg to clamp over Brian's thighs, curling into his side. "I'm always right here." He rubbed tenderly at the heated flesh. "Touch me. Feel me. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm okay."

Brian tried to slowly breath intentionally, through his nose out his mouth. "Christ!" He wiped at his eyes, gripping Michael's forearms around him. "That felt so fuckin' real Mikey." He put a hand over his heart. "That fuckin' scared the shit outta me!" As Brian settled down, he suddenly realized something. "I gotta go back!" He plopped back on his pillow, closing his eyes tightly. "Help me go back, Mikey!"

Michael stared down at Brian in awe. "Brian? Your face?"

"What? What about it?" Brian scraped a hand over his five o'clock shadow.

"I thought it was sweat... but they're tears..." Michael reached out his own tentative hand to caress Brian's face. "You've been crying!" He was shocked by this one fact. It took a lot to make Brian shed tears.

"You're fuckin' dying back there, Mikey. I have to... I have to go back!"

"Brian, you aren't making any sense. It was just a dream. That's it. That's all. Like the one I told you about that I had a few nights ago. The dream I had where we never meet and became friends, but met one another in our 30s. YOU were stuck in a hetero marriage and I was like who your are now, but living in New York. We still came together, though."

"Yeah. Fine. Great. Your's had a happy ending, though. Mine was... mine was..." Brian covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. I sound really stupid, huh?"

Michael grinned down at Brian. "No, not really. I find it oddly comforting and endearing that you'd want to protect me even in your dreams. Shows how deeply rooted your love is... to me." He rested his chin on Brian's evenly breathing chest. Brian wouldn't look him in the eye, he continued to stare up at the ceiling. "Was it bad?" 

"Bad? How do you mean?"

Michael figured that in order to get Brian to feel truly relieved from the dream they needed to discuss it, in depth. "How did we meet?"

"We didn't meet at fourteen, at all." Brian supplied as he tried to recall some specifics. "I had been living on the streets, Liberty Avenue to be exact, since I was sixteen. I was a hustler. I'd seen you at Babylon, a couple of nights. I was instantly attracted. You were friends with Emmett and Ted, but you hadn't come out of the closet. We fell in love... we couldn't help it..."

"Obviously." Michael spoke like that fact was a given.

Brian frowned instantly as he remember the terrible parts of his dream. "Fuckin' Chris Hobbs."

"What about Hobbs?"

"He tried to fag bash us one night. He attempted to run me over with his truck. Instead, he strangled you with some sailing rope."

Michael shivered at the thought. "Was that where you woke...?"

Brian shook his head in reply. "No... this was much later. We pressed charges on Chris. Looked like they were gonna stick. We ruined HIS life. He held a gun to your head. You and Chris struggled for control. I tried to save you, but I think Chris' punk friends were hiding in the loft apartment. I was knocked unconscious before I could see what happened." This time Brian finally looked deeply into Michael's eyes. "You... laying on the floor... in a puddle of blood... That's when you woke me up."

"Wow! I'm sorry, but... you sounded terrible, screaming out like that. Asking me not to die and going on about... well, most of it was incoherent, but I knew the dream wasn't good." Michael planted his head in the crevice of Brian neck and shoulder. "If it's any consolation, without a doubt, I know I survived. Even though the dream wasn't going so well."

Brian felt he could safely touch Michael now. He wrapped an arm about Michael's waist, pulling the warm frame close into his embrace. "Oh? How do you know this?"

"Look at us, Brian. We're inevitable. We're impossible, but we've made it. We didn't do it the easy way, either. But, yet, here we are. Better than we've ever been, I think. More in love, more in *tune* to the other's thinking. Did you ever think that it would last very long between us?"

"I had my doubts."

"As did I, but, I say again... here we are."

Brian plastered his hand over Michael's on his chest. "And here we'll stay."

"Got that right!" Michael was about to rest his head, falling back asleep, when he could still feel a little bit of a quiver run through Brian's body. "Are you going to be alright?" He hated that there was nothing he could really do for Brian.

Brian snickered out a forced laugh. "I'm gonna have to be, huh? Can't exactly expect to fall back asleep, ending up at the very same spot where you woke me up in." He attempted to disguise his real fear.

If he recalled from his minor interest in dream interpretations, they were mostly your subconscious' way of double-checking your reality. Giving you a *Looking Glass* into the future.

Brian and Michael had some weird, oddball, cheesy *connections*. Always able to speak without words. Always knowing what the other was thinking. Anticipating each other's next move.

Was it actually their souls entwined... a cosmic bond formed long ago, beyond their realm? Or was it true that the more you knew, or lived, with another person the more you understood them, came to know their every idea, their every quirk, their every... whim?

The *Michael* of his dreams was either dead or close to death and there was no way for Brian to help. No rhyme or reason to finding his way back to save DreamMichael from a certain death. He didn't like feeling that helpless, out of control. Much more than that, Brian didn't like knowing that this was affecting him more than he thought possible.

What did that say about him, in reality, that he couldn't even save Michael in a simple dream? But had it truly been a dream? It felt so real. There were too many specifics for it to be anything but sound and plausible. He'd felt every emotion, even from Michael and all the other characters in the *show*.

When Brian did find sleep again, a few hours later, the views in his head were jumbled messes of repressed bullshit. Mostly, he found himself holding Michael slightly tighter to his body. Trying to calm his frantic mind into learning the difference between the fantasy world and crappy reality.

****************************************************

Michael was dealing surprisingly well with the extra cuddling, the long, frenzied love making in their bed and the way Brian continually sought a variety of ways to touch and caress him every time they were near one another.

What did end up bothering Michael was the neurotic, possessively protective things that drove him over the edge. Brian drove the Jeep like a man constantly watchful of other drivers on the road, especially dark-windowed, big trucks. He called Michael at every opportunity to see where he was and if he'd made it safely, after dropping him off. He picked him up, always making sure to buckle Michael in.

Every intricate move to add a little more precaution to the situation. Anything to keep his Mikey safe and sound. Brian did everything he could to not allow Michael out of his sight.

Michael loved Brian, beyond belief. More and more each day finding new ways to see a *side* of Brian he never thought possible, only existing in his daydreams and while he was sleeping. But sometimes even Michael got tired of the *sap*. The sentimentality of it all was really quite draining, somewhat annoying. 

Brian was treating him like precious glass, fragile and breakable.

Except in the bedroom. There Brian became something else entirely. A force of frailty and an emotional hybrid of such bereavement and trepidation. He made love like Michael was leaving him, or gone already. Like this very moment they were in would be their last. Brian's desperation for making sure Michael was always going to be there, present and available, became an added step to their aftermath.

Brian would remain deeply embedded inside Michael, his breathing labored and rough. He'd cling like a drowning man hoping to be rescued from the dark beauty of the bewitching sea. Transfixed and anchored into one thought, unable to be absolved of any wrongdoing he might have transgressed.

Tonight was the first night that Brian had kept himself at least a foot away from Michael, for longer than one hour. Emmett and Ted had invited Brian and Michael out for their usual night of Woody's and Babylon.

Michael was sitting at the bar, in Woody's, gazing at Brian playing a game of pool with Ted. He was nursing his first and only beer. Next, he was thinking of moving on to something like water or a ginger ale. Michael didn't *feel* much like being out in public. When something bothered Brian, Michael felt it ten times as worse. He never wanted Brian to be in any kind of discomfort. He felt this odd form of guilt over having been the cause of Brian's infatuation with being his own private bodyguard.

There was nothing he could do or say to assuage Brian of this underlaying fear stuck in his head.

Michael wished... he wished there was an easy remedy for Brian's *sickness*. He was beginning to wonder if it was possible to asphyxiate on passion. To dive so deep in one's skin that you can't even remember who you ever were to begin with. He couldn't bear watching Brian do this to himself. Even if it did make their relationship much stronger. It just felt... queer...

A familiar smell of fruity flowers wafted up to him as someone took the stool by his side.

Michael had been leaning his chin on his crooked arm as he watched the scene before him. Anyone who didn't know him, would think he was fuckin' bored to death. He didn't think he'd smiled once, except when Brian turned to look for him, catching his gaze across the room. Brian was too far away to notice that the smile never reached Michael's eyes.

A few regular customers picked up on that rarity, even the bartender had asked if Michael needed to *talk*, once or twice.

Michael had expected Brian to throw down his cue stick and join him at the bar, after the usual fifteen minute time limit of separation lapsed. That would have happened a few days ago, so maybe this *sickness* in Brian's head was finally disappearing. In some corn ball way, Michael hoped that some of the quirks would remain, the annoying ones dissolving.

"So... HE's yours now?" A familiar voice floated into Michael's ear. He was staring mighty hard at Brian.

"Excuse me?" Fixing his body to sit straight on the stool, Michael turned his head to find a strange man, oddly recognizable. "Are you talkin' to me?"

"Say it like De Niro, Honey. I could use a pick me up." The dark haired man snatched up his short glass of scotch, draining it down his throat. He grabbed onto the ledge of the bar counter, shaking off the initial effects of pure alcohol. "Whoa! That packs a wallop!!"

Michael was bewildered by the man's quick friendliness. "Do I know you?" **Better yet... How the fuck do you know me?**, Michael thought that might be a better question to ask.

Clearing his throat, the man threw his head like he had a long mane of hair, then placed a delicate hand to his chest, Emmett style. "Honey, you give this girl a run for her money."

Michael's eyes widened in shock. "Marilyn? Mysterious Marilyn?"

"That is I! Moi! Me! Numero Uno! Solamente Uno!... Bloody... fuckin' Christ!" *Marilyn* gulped *her* second scotch that the bartender had set down before *her*.

Michael was wanting to laugh hysterically, but his heart wasn't in it. Plus, he couldn't help feeling that this was, quite possibly, the *sign* he'd been waiting for. *Marilyn* didn't look too much like *her* old self. Devoid of that nasty Bon Jovi groupie/New Jersey Mall hair and the Tammy Faye Baker make-up deal... *she* actually didn't make a bad looking man. Michael even wondered if *she* would be in the mood to answer any of his questions. "Bad day?"

"Try... a fuckn' bad month!" Leaning toward Michael, *Marilyn* was beginning to sound slightly slurred. "Uranus is in a bad position."

Michael almost choked on his gulp of beer. He only drooled a little bit. "Oh. Shit! Warn a guy, huh?!"

"Sorry, Michael." *She* patted Michael's shoulder, a little too roughly. "It's an old psychic's joke."

"I liked it. Can I use it? It's definitely an ice breaker." Michael used his napkin to sop up the mess.

*Marilyn* tapped out a Marlboro, lighting it with *her* own monogrammed lighter. "So, Michael... tell me... speak to me... it won't cost you a fuckin' dime, honey... when did this shit happen?" *Her* long, tapered fingers, usually adorned with press-on nails with a French-cut, gestured between Michael and Brian.

"Three months ago."

"Ah... so it's new... fresh... exciting..." *Marilyn* nodded in understanding.

Michael snickered as he took a sip of his beer. "You make us sound like a feminine douche ad."

This time it was *Marilyn*'s turn to laugh outright. "Oh, Michael! I was born in the wrong decade! And under the wrong gender!"

"I don't mean to be nosy, but... do you need to talk to someone?"

"Sweetie..." Blue-green eyes zeroed in on Michael's face, teary-eyed and bleary. "... you'd actually listen to an old pathetic fag like me?!"

Michael shook his head, dead panning his reply. "No, there's this guy at the end of the bar who's been hitting on me. I thought I'd do you BOTH a favor." He couldn't hold it in for long. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Of course I'll listen, Marilyn. You've been there for us... too many times to count..."

"Christopher." *Marilyn* supplied as *she* closed her eyes, sighing heavily.

"What?"

Turning in *her* stool, *Marilyn* faced Michael, holding out a hand in greeting. "Christopher A. Bingham. Chris will be fine."

 ** Michael took the hand, surprising finding some raw strength behind it. "Nice to meet you, Chris. Does that mean *Marilyn* no longer exists?" **

**"I'm thinkin' about retiring the crystal ball and the Ouija board. Move my sorry ass to Florida where I can get some real weather. Start working on my tan." Chris let out a sad smile as he turned back to face the bar. "Michael, you've been neglecting my question."**

 **"No I haven't. I just don't know how to answer you." Michael looked down at the counter, playing with his napkin.**

 **"Brian's not all he was cracked up to be?"**

 **"No, that's not it. We've been perfect up until about a week ago."**

 **"What happened a week ago?"**

 **"Look, Mar- Chris... do you really wanna hear this? It's pretty much geared in your area of expertise. I don't want to assume that you're *open for business* when you're dressed like this."**

 **Chris rolled his eyes, puffing on his cigarette. "Honey, I can't *knock* off my abilities just because I feel like it. They're there even when I feel like shit. If you don't talk to me, that's fine. But I'm gonna have a hell of a fuckin' headache when I leave here. I'm already sensing your distress."**

 **Michael's eyes widened in wonderment. "Wow! You can really do that?!?"**

 **The hand came out to cover Michael's. "I'm a well-rounded paranormal expert, doing the psychic crap pays the bills, legitimately."**

 **Michael squeezed back, then let go. "Is there such a thing as psychic, or paranormal, counseling?" He snickered just to blow the edge off his stupid question.**

 **Chris didn't seem to think it was such a strange inquiry at all. "Some people think so. If you believe in it hard enough. What's going on, Michael?" The serious, manly voice came out.**

 **"Dreams... or realities... I can't tell the difference. All I know is Brian had a pretty significant dream about us a week ago and he hasn't been *right* since. In a nutshell, in the dream he couldn't save me. So he's trying to make up for it, in the real world. But it's getting frighteningly Un-Brian of him to do these things. I feel like a fuckin' four-year old. There are some things I don't mind, like the cuddling, the caresses and the mind-numbing sex... but..."**

 **"You sound scared."**

 **"Yeah, you know. It's gotten to the point where I fear getting up right now to the bathroom. Brian might follow me in to see that I don't fall and hit my head. Hell, he may even try to wipe my ass for me."**

 **Chris chuckled at the admission. "Do you think it might have been a *past life* flashback?"**

 **Michael shook his head, finding Brian staring at him again. "No... because the dream was present time, like where we are now, in our 30s. I was doing a bit of research by myself, on the Internet, and I think I hit a snag. Something about *Alternate Realities*."**

 **"Whoa! That's deeper than the shit I do here for twenty fuckin' bucks." Chris dug into his suit jacket, pulling out what looked to be a wallet. "Has it really gotten terrible for you... and Brian?" He pulled out some loose bills for his drinks.**

 **"Yeah... I'm desperate for finding anything that can help Brian let go of his guilt."**

 **"And your own." Chris added under his breath. He put up his hand when Michael tried to speak out. "It's in your voice, body language and eyes. In fact, you're infected by it as much as Brian is." He picked through his wallet to drag out a white business card. "I normally don't show this to the customers I have here. Show up at this office at eleven tomorrow. We can start work on fixing what's broke." Chris climbed down off the stool. He had to use the bar to keep his body steady.**

 **"You need a ride home, Chris?"**

 **"Nah. I got me a cab comin'. I was simply wasting' time until it showed up." Chris weaved through the male bodies with a kind wave *goodbye*.**

 **Michael could sense Brian's approach, from behind.**

 **"Someone you know?" Brian kissed Michael's temple, rubbing the biceps tenderly.**

 **"Someone we BOTH know." Michael stared at the white card on the bar.**

 **"What's that?"**

 **Lifting an eyebrow, Michael picked the card up to place it in his own wallet "I'm hoping... our salvation." He fisted the front of Brian's shirt to drag him down for a sloppy, wet kiss.**

 **"Then you're okay?" Brian's eyes searched Michael of any signs of doubt and fear.**

 **"I will be." Michael sighed giving out a genuine smile. When Brian was near, it was easier to let the grins reach his eyes.**

 **"We're... okay?" Brian asked with some qualms of his own. He knew what a loon he'd been for several days now. He wished he could stop being so fuckin' clingy and needy. Turn off the desire to make sure Michael was still breathing every fuckin' minute of the day. But he didn't know how. More importantly, he didn't know how to ask for help. Even from Michael. Embarrassment was the least of his problems.**

 **"We... Brian Kinney... are just fan-fuckin-tabu-listic!" Michael drew Brian close for another kiss. His own mind floundering about...**

 ******_****WE WILL BE, Brian... with everything in me, I promise you, we will be...**** _ ** ** **

**********************************************************

 **For five minutes, Brian and Michael had been sitting in the Jeep on the street. The white business card that Mysterious Marilyn had given Michael displayed the address that they were parked in front of.**

 **Michael wasn't going to move unless Brian did. He sighed, turning his head to look out the passenger window. "It looks like a normal house, Brian. Fairly harmless, in my eyes."**

 **Brian didn't dare glance once at the nice-looking row house. "It's only ten `til eleven."**

 **"Riiiiiiiiggghhhttt." Michael had expected Brian to begin making weak, random excuses. "Of course, whomever we're seeing in there may already *know* that we're out here. So, it's really kind of moot to be sitting here... staring."**

 **"I'm not, you are."**

 **"Brian, you promised."**

 **"I know. I know, but there's something very creepy about being... HERE!"**

 **"Here HERE? Or *here* in a cosmic sense?"**

 **"Either way it's fuckin' crazy... which I have already told you I'm not."**

 **"I never said that you were, Brian. Right now you don't want to do anything but be gone. I understand that, but I can't take much more of... this.. what you're doing to yourself. Not that I haven't enjoyed these past few days, thoroughly. I can't let you torture yourself any more."**

 **"I'm fine." Brian reached inside his jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped out one smoke to light.**

 **"Brian... your spirit is slowly dying."**

 **"That's a little fuckin' melodramatic." Brian snickered out as he took a long drag, blowing out perfect circles.**

 **"You're doing it to yourself."**

 **"No I'm not."**

 **"And you're taking me with you."**

 **Brian squinted his eyes in befuddlement. "How do you mean?"**

 **"What hurts you, hurts me. Plus, I can't tell you the amount of guilt I'm feeling for my actions in your dream."**

 **"Michael, you have no control over that. You told me so yourself that I..."**

 **"I know... the *Michael* of your dream is YOUR projection of how you think of me. Those qualities, in ME, that stand out for you." Tucking his hands in between his thighs, Michael stretched out his aching legs. "I don't know how you see me as some kind of hero, but THIS *Michael* thinks it was rash and foolish to fight Hobbs for the gun.”**

 **"You ARE my *hero*, Mikey." Brian made a grab for Michael's thigh and squeezed.**

 **"If you belt out... even hum... 'Wind Beneath My Wings' again... I'm gonna hurl." Michael closed his eyes in pretend agony.**

 **"But, Mikey..." Brian whined in a brat-like voice.**

 **Michael checked his wristwatch. Another five minutes had just passed. "Are you ready?"**

 **Brian sent out a puff of smoke from the side of his mouth. "Michael? Why didn't you tell me before that you were feeling this way?"**

 **Michael shrugged, his hand on the door latch. "I didn't want to resort to those heavy tactics. I wanted you to know that you needed to come. For your own benefit and peace of mind and of your own free will. I think it's time you started acting a little selfish."**

 **Brian chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "People already think I'm an asshole and a bastard. Why burst their bubble?"**

 **"I'm not talking about THAT part of your character. THAT one still exists. No, what I mean is... you have A LOT to learn from healing yourself. Becoming humble and foregoing pride. Admitting to yourself that you can't do this alone."**

 **"If I get anyone to help me with this, Michael... I want it to be you... and ONLY you."**

 **Michael bit his lip. "Okay... then... what if *I* need outside help to help you?"**

 **Brian kept staring through the windshield. "What are you saying?"**

 **"If what you said is true, then... get out of the fuckin' Jeep."**

 **"SHIT!" Brian growled out as he opened the door, threw his smoke to the ground and smashed it to the rough surface. He crawled out of his side like an elderly invalid. The weight of the world on his shoulders.**

 **When they approached the front door, there was a clear distinction that whomever occupied the house was prepared to welcome them in. Michael reached the screen door first. Brian was dragging behind.**

 **Shaking his head, Michael raised a hand to knock when a deep voice, from somewhere inside the home called out.**

 **"COME IN! DOOR'S OPEN!"**

 **Fearing that Brian's apprehension was rubbing off on him, Michael shook the eerie chill from his body. He grabbed the screen door handle, waiting for Brian to enter first. Michael walked in after him.**

 **They were standing in a simple foyer. A dining room sat to their right and a living room to their left. Straight ahead was a hallway that led into a kitchen. A set of stairs sat to the left of the hallway, breaking it in half.**

 **Brushing his chest against Brian's back, Michael pushed him further in so he could shut the door. Instinctively, Michael reached out to wind his hand over Brian's shoulder, softly soothing a trail to end up taking his hand. Also, it was a way of silently *thanking* Brian for coming this far.**

 **"Hello?" Michael cautiously called out as he looked about the empty rooms.**

 **Brian swiveled, a thin film of sweat perched on his upper lip. "Let's get out while we can , Mikey."**

 **Michael placed a gentle hand over Brian's frantically beating heart. "We're here. Let's stay. At least hear what else can be done then what I've already read about. I'm not a professional at this stuff, Brian."**

 **"Yeah... but a *psychic counselor*? How the fuck do you get a degree in that!?!"**

 **A disembodied voice spoke from somewhere high above. "Well... you go to Carnegie Mellon for four years as a psychology major, minor in physics, and you just let all that psychic shit work itself out."**

 **Michael raised his head to look over Brian's shoulder. His eyes widened as he watched the stranger stroll down the stairs.**

 **Brian was squeezing his eyes shut, seeming to sink into Michael's embrace. "Mikey... is there someone behind me... speaking? Please, tell me..."**

 **"Uh... yeah..." Michael didn't know if he should tell Brian *who* this person actually looked like.**

 **"Whew! Thank God!" Brian finally opened his lids to watch Michael. Those familiar eyes looked peculiar. "What? What's wrong?"**

 **"Um... turn around and find out." Michael pinched his lips to keep from laughing out loud. Shit! He should have expected this from Mysterious Marilyn.**

 **Feeling slightly brave, Brian did as requested, then promptly turned back around. "Oh... Hell... No!" He began to struggle with the confines of Michael standing in his way of quickly exiting. "Mikey... stop... let me..."**

 **Crossing Brian's arms over his chest, Michael pushed with all his might. "I'm not letting you leave, Brian. I don't care how you feel about WHO our counselor looks like..."**

 **"Come on, Michael? Britney Spears?" Now, Brian whined for real.**

 **A snicker came from up the stairs. "What? You like Christina? I can BE her as well." The stranger side-stepped the rest of the stairs, finding the steps awkward in high heels. The *look* was from Britney's break out year with "Baby, Hit Me One More Time". The virginal Catholic schoolgirl outfit.**

 **Brian covered his face with his hands. "I don't want you to look like anyone but who you're supposed to. Man or woman... good. A pedophile's wet dream... bad... very bad."**

 **The tone of voice took on a haughty sound. "You know Marilyn... why should who I look like bother you so much, Mr. Kinney?"**

 **Brian turned back to face the strange woman... uh, man... uh, Britney look-a-like. "Mysterious Marilyn looks like a frustrated New Jersey house frou... I don't know if I can take getting any kind of advice from a Spears-head."**

 **"Sweetie, you don't scare me in the least. I could take you or leave you. YOU'RE the one who needs the help."**

 **Michael couldn't help but laugh out loud as he held out a hand. "Michael Novotny."**

 **The Pig-Tailed Blonde Britney gripped Michael's hand in a hard tug. "Matthew Bingham."**

 **Michael's eyebrow shot upward. "Oh?"**

 **Matthew nodded as he promptly let go of Michael's hand. Brian was giving him some harsh stares. "Chris and I are cousins. I used to work with him years ago. He... Mysterious Marilyn, me... Cunning Clarissa. We worked as a pair, but I've learned that it's kinda cool to incorporate what you love with what you actually went to school for." He glanced down at his *outfit*. "Sorry for the way I look It's simply another hobby of mine. I have to work tonight."**

 **"What? Ripping off unsuspecting little girls?" Brian felt the swat to his biceps. "Ow!"**

 **"Stop it!" Michael turned an apologetic look Matthew's way. "Are you part of an act or do you just...?"**

 **"I started with karaoke... then I began to dress like her to enhance my singing... now I have a part-time job on Liberty Avenue..."**

 **"You're gay?" Brian seemed to lighten his anger a bit, rubbing at his sore arm.**

 **Matthew hated the *attitude* Brian had brought with him. "Why... yes, Brian... and I know this seems strange, kinda kookie-crazy, but... I think I love you." He rolled his eyes, swinging his mini-skirt in the air on his trek down the hallway. "Follow me, boys. Chris is in the Office."**

 **Brian pouted at the quick put-down. He thought it was uncalled for. "Michael, I don't..."**

 **"You deserved it, Brian. You were seriously rude." Michael began to follow Matthew.**

 **Brian snatched Michael's jacket sleeve. "Hey, wait! You're not actually considering continuing this... bullshit!"**

 **"It's NOT bullshit! When are you gonna get it in your fuckin' head that the kind of shit we're messing with is heavy? I don't think I can help you like you think I can. These guys may be quirky and slightly off-kilter from the norm, but... they're professionals. Board certified paranormal experts. I don't want to cause more harm than already done." Michael sighed, working Brian's tight fingers off his jacket material. "If you don't want to come... fine, but I'm going in there because I'm at the end of my fuckin' rope." He pressed a kiss to Brian's cheek. "I'll still love you... no matter what you do. Just don't drive away, I'll need a ride." Michael patted Brian's chest as he turned to walk down the hallway to see where Matthew and his cousin, Chris, were in their backroom office.**

 **The minute Michael entered the slightly open door to the room called The Office, he wanted to cry. Mysterious Marilyn/Chris had left him last night and he was assuming had forgotten about him. The state of the room was a sure sign that Chris had been hard at work all night into this morning.**

 **The Office looked like a library. Book-case lined walls. A big heavy mahogany desk sat near a window. Everything was in dark woods, green and worn leather. Books upon books had been pulled down from the shelves, strewn out over every surface possible.**

 **Michael tried to swallow the lump in his throat, say a few words of *thanks*, but words wouldn't come out. The second he made one sound, he heard the door open behind him.**

 **In walked Brian, taking off his leather jacket like he was planning on staying awhile. "Okay..." He put his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. "... what do you boys need from me... to help you... help me?" He let out another breath as he let his eyes glance about the room. He was picking up on the same *vibe* as Michael had. Marilyn? and Clarissa? didn't know him from Adam, but here they were... pouring over every book in their possession. All to help him... the consummate asshole, Brian Kinney. "Christ!" He let out a huge sigh.**

 **Matthew crossed his arms over his *chest* under the pretty cardigan sweater. "I need you to come with me." He picked up at least two Steno pads and a pen.**

 **"Where?" Brian was losing every ounce of courage he'd gathered to come further into this house. He didn't want to let Michael down.**

 **"My dungeon." Matthew provocatively bit at the tip of his pen, then chuckled as he moved to a doorway just off one of the bookcases. "I'm sorry, honey... I couldn't resist. It's only a simple therapy room. There's a couch, but I never sit on it unless my client's ask me. I have my *shrink* chair on the other side of the room." He was waiting for Brian to approach.**

 **Brian turned to enter the room.**

 **"Brian..." Michael took a steady step forward. He noticed the slight pause in Brian's progression into the room. Why did Michael fear this would be the last sight he'd have of Brian? For awhile? "Would you like for me...?" He was going to offer to sit in with Brian's sessions, but he caught Matthew's shake of his head.**

 **"I need Brian all to myself, Michael. I'm sorry, but you would be a distraction I don't need." Matthew watched Brian walk into the room and step in, all the way. He gave Michael a *thumb's up* as a show that he'd take care of Brian.**

 **Suddenly Michael felt a rush of misgivings at letting Brian out of his sight. Not that he didn't trust Chris and Matthew, but from what he had read about their dreams and the *problems* associated with them, it didn't bode well to separate them.**

 **"Michael, he'll be fine." Chris looked at Michael above his spectacles as he continued reading while sitting behind his desk.. "Sit down. Your fidgeting is making me nervous."**

 **Michael quickly plopped down in a nearby red leather chair. "Sorry." He kept his eyes locked onto the door, closed between him and Brian.**

 **Chris threw the book across his desktop. "Shit! This is fuckin' worse than I thought!"**

 **Michael sat at the edge of his chair. "What's wrong?"**

 **Chris was rubbing his temples, trying to rid his head of the aches surfacing. "Do you know anything about what this whole thing means? The dreams you AND Brian have been having."**

 **Michael's eyes squinted to look closer at Chris. "These aren't *dreams*... like we keep calling them, are they?"**

 **Taking off his glasses, Chris kept one of the arms of his glasses in his mouth. "How long have you suspected?"**

 **"Pretty much since Brian told me about his. What rang in my head, continually, was that though our visions were different, the same stuff happened. What I guess my first question would be is... Why would that have happened?" Michael sat back in his chair, hoping *Mysterious Marilyn* could help out Chris... or was he simply acting like an idiot. Chris didn't channel *Marilyn* and she wasn't the psychic medium... it had always been him. *Marilyn* was only his shtick.**

 **"I could go into a lot of mumbo-jumbo, but I like you, Michael, so I'm not gonna bore you. Suffice to say, while we exist in this space there are an infinite amount of possibilities to many of our most difficult life choices. Moments in time, theoretical *corners*, if you will, where different options are put on one's plate. A life altering WHAT IF? What is perceived as a simple "Yes/No" decision can become an fathomless "Maybe". An ongoing "What might have been...". The problems come when each choice is made, those choices have their own *corners*, but all come together under a singular thought or idea on the outcome."**

 **"Is it always only one particular moment?" Michael scratched the back of his head in thought**

 **"That depends on the people involved and their relationship together." Chris got up out of his chair to pace around is desk. He was going to sit on the edge, facing Michael. "What is it for you and Brian?"**

 **"Meeting one another at fourteen, becoming best friends."**

 **"Where exactly did this *meeting* take place? Did you know mutual people? Did you have to sit next to each other in a class?"**

 **"We knew OF one another, had a class or two, but didn't really begin to talk until... we bumped into each other on the stairs." Michael sat forward, his hands dangling between his knees. "Chris... that was about the starting point of both our dreams. My dream had us meeting, but Brian just ignored me. We kinda talked later, then never saw each other for eighteen years."**

 **"Why?'**

 **"Some school bullies bashed me to a pulp. I was hospitalized. I left Pittsburgh after a year of rehabilitation and went to live with my Uncle in New York. I kind of grew up to be like how Brian used to be. Cool, stoic and unfeeling. I had any man I wanted at my beck and call, though I was only working in my uncle's restaurant. I wanted to write my own comic, but I needed an artist to come aboard. I had seen these graphics on a website and emailed this man, never knowing WHO he really was. He turned out to be Brian."**

 **Chris was soaking everything in, patiently waiting for Michael's next words. "What happened to Brian?"**

 **"A LOT! He wanted so badly to teach me how to fight, but he had been in the middle of his own battles with Jack, his father. A suspension from school had kept Brian from helping me win against the bullies. He didn't know what had happened to me. He actually thought I had died. So he numbly went about all his schooling. Started a career he held no passion for. I think he might have cow-tailed his sexuality to make his father proud. He married a woman and they had two children. He did fall in love with his wife, but the years were dragging on their relationship."**

 **"That's about the time your emails were coming, right?"**

 **"Yeah..." Michael stared at Chris in wonderment. "How did you know?"**

 **Smiling sheepishly, Chris shrugged. "Call it a sixth sense."**

 **"Is that another old psychic joke?"**

 **"No... it's the god damn truth."**

 **Michael had been prepared to laugh, but Chris' serious looks made him stop. "Oh."**

 **"Michael, tell me what you've come up with, on your own? What you've been able to figure out." Chris crossed his arms, anticipating some interesting facts.**

 **"Well... mostly since I hit a few snags on defining what the hell we were dreaming... I contrasted and compared our two dreams."**

 **"Do you have...?"**

 **"Wait!" Michael stood to dig into his pocket. He took out his wallet, finding the folded up paper inside the bill area. "I sketched a rough description... and then did an intricate dream analysis in my own layman's mind."**

 **Chris smiled as he opened up the folded paper to discover quite a detailed map of Brian and Michael's dreams. "Do you mind if I make a copy of this? Put it in your file?"**

 **"No, I don't mind." Michael waved away Chris' worry as he watched him walk to a table top copy machine. "I want you to be honest. Tell me if anything I wrote makes sense."**

 **"Absolutely it makes perfect sense. Matty and I may have extra sensory characteristics, but ultimately it's about you and Brian's connection." Chris nearly skipped his way back over to Michael. He couldn't believe his luck in running into these boys at Woody's, just when he was feeling a slump in business.**

 **"Really? You think Brian and I are... connected?" Michael took his original copy laying it on the little table on his right, for future reference.**

 **"You want a better term?" At Michael's hurried nod, Chris grinned as he thought about the flagrant use of the word. Never had he actually envisioned being witness to such a phenomenon. "Soul mates..."**

 **"You gotta be shittin' me?! Isn't that like saying... nothing, and no one, can tear us apart?"**

 **Chris was looking over Michael's drawings. "Can you doubt that now, Michael? Knowing what you do?"**

 **"No. I suppose not. But it's always been in the back of my mind." Michael was about to put a hand to his head. This was a lot to take in one week.**

 **"This is..." Chris couldn't find the words to describe what he was looking at.**

 **"I know. Completely lame and full of shit."**

 **"No, on the contrary, Michael. You've hit the nail on the head."**

 **"Uh... explain..." Michael wasn't sure he should be jumping for joy just yet.**

 **"You put it all in this one sentence here... `Brian and Michael must become friends, grow to love each other, by any means necessary'. But notice how each of your dreams began, you gave each other private pain/suffering. You took Brian away from yourself and you made the *beating* happen to you. Brian's dream begins as we seem him hustling in Babylon. No family. No friends. No Mikey. You both took that meeting on the stairs and you flipped it. YOU gave it a chance, but failed. Brian didn't even give it a chance. And look here..." He pointed to an area where Michael had written some words. “Each time you two *meet*, in your dreams, your love intensifies. There's close affection. There's an instant bond. There's an underlaying attraction that lays untapped."**

 **"Did I get that other stuff right? I read over all these books and web sites trying to wonder why we acted the way we did in our separate dreams. And also why the hell we saw, basically... everything the other was doing or feeling? Like being the director of our own mini-movie." Michael was eager to hear more about what he had done.**

 **"Visions like these can sometimes be manifestations of the subconscious. Our genuine feelings for a person are subdued, kept hidden, in our reality. Dreams give us moments to project images of how we see one another. YOU know Brian is deeply loyal and trustworthy, but still locking away the pain for other's happiness... so you placed him in a loveless hetero-marriage. Brian sees YOU as having strength beyond words and confidence up the wazoo!... but he holds on to the virginal/innocent image of you. Untainted and pure... so he made His Michael a virgin who hasn't come out of the closet, but who becomes strong in his beliefs. Toughens up." Chris sighed heavily. "Since you two are *connected*, in such a way... it would explain why at some moments you become cerebral puppet masters... Either of your emotions can be gages to the other's reaction."**

 **"Yin and Yang. Push and Pull." Michael couldn't believe he'd actually been capable of figuring it all out. At the time it had all sounded like rubbish... stupid nonsense that no one would think possible.**

 **"Uh... yeah, to put it simply." Chris placed the paper on his desk, turning to face Michael. "This is all unreal to me, Michael. You boys have managed to tap into your psychic abilities without even knowing."**

 **"You mean there's actually something I can tell my mother to get her off my back about Brian."**

 **"She doesn't care for him?"**

 **"She loves him, but not for me... her precious baby boy."**

 **"Oh... what a shame. She'd learn so much about both of you, if only she'd open up to experiences. Let it go, let it flow... is what I say. "**

 **Michael went to reach for his cell phone. "Hold that thought, Chris. Let me dial my Ma. She'd never believe it from my mouth."**

 **"Honey, I don't think she'd believe it from this queen's lips, either..." A buzzer sounded. Chris moved to press his phone behind him. "Yes?"**

 **"Chris... I need you in here." It was a curt response from Matthew.**

 **"Excuse me, Michael."**

 **"Certainly." Michael stood up to watch Chris walk to the other office door and disappear behind it. He began to pace around the other side of the room, looking at all the spines of book along the wall. In the next few minutes of reading an excerpt of Bronte's Wuthering Heights, Michael looked up.**

 **The door was creaking open, allowing him to hear Chris and Matthew's hushed voices.**

 **"I swear I don't know what happened, Chris!"**

 **"Shit! I knew you shouldn't have taken him in here alone!"**

 **"I barely said one word to him, to put him in the usual trance mode... then poof... he was out."**

 **"What the hell do I tell Michael out there, Matty? He's expecting us to help Brian, not hurt him."**

 **"He's sleeping. We're not hurting him."**

 **"That all depends on where you exactly sent him."**

 **"I'm telling you, Chris, he slipped away on his own. I had no dealings with..."**

 **Michael pushed the door open all the way so he could see Brian.**

 **Laying quiet and serene on the cream lounging sofa, Brian rested on his back, hands folded over his chest, centered perfectly. He did simply look like a sleeping angel. Free from harm and pain.**

 **"Michael, I..." Chris tried to apologize.**

 **Michael put up a hand to shush both men, to use a very loose term. "No... don't..."**

 **Walking slowly across the room, he crept to Brian's side, kneeling down at the area near his upper body, Michael glanced over his best friend and new found lover. He wanted to cry, but how could he when he already knew this would happen? If this was in Brian to do, then he'd allow him the space to do it. The freedom to be who he always wanted to be. A constant heart and ultimate protector of His Mikey.**

 **Michael reached out a hand to caress Brian's cheek. He felt so warm and vibrant, full of life. Bending down close to Brian's right ear, he chose these words carefully. "** **_****Easiness is what you bring to me; peace of mind . . . a comfort that has no definition but it's there, snuggled down in the contours of my soul; always with me, always making itself known. There is no elusiveness to what we share with each other unless it's the elusivity of words to describe . . . to tell . . . to tender explanation for something our hearts just know. Our pairing is a concrete union of two beings who complete each other to the point where separateness is a non-thing that causes only loneliness and a constant yearning for the heartbeat that echoes itself in it's lover's heart . . . Soul mates soul-met; who, in the greater scheme of things, know that when the wheel comes full circle we will find each other in another life . . . . . and another . . . and another . . .**** _ ** ** " Pressing a soft kiss to Brian's lips, Michael leaned into say his last words. "Go ahead and save me, but don't ever forget to come back to me... My Sweet Prince." He stood up from the floor. **

**Chris and Matthew stared in awe at what could have come over Michael.**

 **Chris cleared his throat. "What did you just say?"**

 **Michael shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Huh?"**

 **"Those words... they were..."**

 **Matthew sighed as he tried to wipe at his eyes. "Eloquent and beautiful. Shit! Now, you made me feel like even more of an ass."**

 **"Are you okay, Michael?" Chris tried to walk near Michael, but he could *feel* the wall building up. He was protecting his sleeping *prince*.**

 **Turning his wise eyes toward Chris and Matthew, Michael felt his body fill with an odd sense of confidence. "Do you boys have a spare bedroom we can stay in? I have a feeling we're gonna need to shack up here for awhile." Standing near Brian's prone form, Michael lightly brushed his fingers through Brian's hair, trying to send him any message other than verbal.**

 **Michael hoped Brian was aware enough to receive them.**

 **  
** **************************THE END OF A Different Corner Books...STAY TUNED** ** ** **

****Michael's monologue is a poem called SOULMATES by Betty Thompson****


End file.
